Blood, Sex, Magic
by concretedandelion
Summary: Frankie Davies is a witch that just doesn't know how to stay out of trouble. She doesn't go actively looking for it, but she'll be damned if it doesn't end up finding her anyway. Just when she thinks her troubles with supes are behind her, she waltzes right into the lion's den, or rather, the vampire's den.
1. Guilty

"God, this place is such a fucking pathetic drag," I thought to myself, "Why the fuck would you come here? Oh, right, because you're the world's biggest, saddest idiot. How could I forget?" I had always thought the phrase "kick rocks" was pretty lame, but in that moment I found myself wanting to do exactly that. Since I was walking down a paved sidewalk with no rocks in sight, I decided to settle on an empty Diet Coke can instead, taking a running start and punting the damn thing as hard as I could. Somehow the crunch and clink of my boot colliding with the aluminum can alleviated my foul mood just a fraction, even when an elderly couple passing by gave me twin withering stares that could have made a lemon pucker. I just leered at them and gave them my craziest just-escaped-from-the-nut-house grin until they looked away, increasing their pace and scuttling away from me across the street. Now that I think about it, their uneasiness probably had just as much to do with how I looked in general as with the death glare I was giving them.

I was one of those girls that "normal" people tended to look at with some amount of pity, thinking to themselves that I'd be so pretty if I'd cut out all the weird shit. Not that I was one of those people with lots of tattoos and piercings, in fact the only body art I had other than ear piercings was a nostril piercing that I liked to wear a small silver ring in. Sometimes if I was feeling crazy I'd wear a chain connecting my nose ring with one of my earrings, but not tonight. Anyway, I was more or less average to look at. I wasn't ugly, but I wasn't a movie star or anything, either. I had never thought I'd look good with a tan so I tended to stay indoors and always made sure to wear sunscreen if I went to the beach. As a result my skin was quite fair, but also nearly flawless due to the lack of sun damage. My hair was black, down to my bra strap, and naturally wavy but I had straightened it tonight and put it up into pigtails. My eyes were green, not a bright emerald green like I had always admired but sort of a milky moss agate kind of green. I had large doe eyes and high cheek bones with full, heart-shaped lips that always prompted people to ask what ethnicity I was. Apparently I looked "exotic." I really had no idea what my heritage was since I didn't know my birth parents, but I guess "exotic" is a decent enough compliment. Anyway, the point is that I'm a decent looking chick that would probably be married with a white picket fence and a brood of sticky tiny humans if not for the fact that most of my tastes run into the strange and unusual, fashion not excluded.

Tonight I was wearing a black latex halter top with a deep V neck that made my tits look fabulous, if I do say so myself. Dark purple corduroy skinny pants made my ass look equally fabulous and my favorite Jeffrey Campbell Damian boots completed the ensemble, with an amethyst and black diamond choker around my neck. I also had my fuzzy black clutch with all of my important stuff in it. I had opted to go light on the makeup in order to let my outfit stand out. Just a basic purple smoky eye and some clear gloss to make my lips pop and that was it. Truth be told I was quite tame compared to the way a lot of my friends in NOLA dressed, but I was definitely no Betty Crocker and that fact hadn't escaped the notice of the little ol' couple currently doing their damnedest to scurry away from me. For a split second I considered turning around and following them a bit, at an almost uncomfortably close distance, just to freak them out a bit more but I stopped short and found myself distracted by something on their side of the street just as they rounded the corner out of my line of vision.

"Fangtasia? _Fang_tasia. Like, fantasia, but with fangs? Because of vampires. Right. You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me!" That name was one of the dumbest fucking things I had ever heard in my entire life, but for some reason the trendy font and bright red fluorescent glow of the sign were pulling me across the street like a moth to a flame. As I got closer down the block I noticed a decent sized throng of people waiting outside the plush red door, corralled into something resembling a single-file line by red velvet ropes. Was this an exclusive, vampires-only social club of some kind? The nearer I got to the queue line, the more I realized this definitely wasn't a suit-and-tie affair. Judging by the appearances of some of the people waiting in the line I finally figured it must be some kind of fangbanger tourist trap. The strange combination of the apparently posh décor of the establishment and the trashy, gauche aura emanating from the queue almost made me laugh. Suddenly I found myself resolved to get into that club or bar or whatever it was and find out what the fuss was about. There was a moment's hesitation when I remembered why I had originally left New Orleans to come to Shreveport in search of a calmer, simpler, supe-free life, but it was as if I was in some kind of strange haze that was amplified by the siren call of the neon sign and only alleviated when I joined the back of the queue line.

I had started making small talk with one of the people next to me in line, a doughy older woman named Patty who appeared to be in her mid-forties, with frizzy box blonde hair grown out about three inches and eyes rimmed in no less than ten pounds of liner and mascara per eye. From our conversation I had gleaned that my latter guess that this was a gimmicky vamp bar was correct. Patty herself was here visiting from Biloxi and had a list of items to pick up from the gift shop for her friends and family back home. She was rattling off items from the list: a calendar for her sister-in-law, a t-shirt for her boss, a mug for her best friend… I had honestly stopped listening and was more interested in picking at my eggplant colored nail polish when a commotion at the beginning of the line, which was moving extremely slowly at the moment, caught my attention.

I could hear voices up front growing gradually louder. Sounded like an argument. I was starting to get excited that I'd see some drunken idiots getting thrown out or a couple of frat losers fighting over some chick who had had one too many tequila sunrises. I strained to hear what was going on and interrupted Patty mid-sentence, "Listen, Patty, will you save my spot in line? Some shit's going down up there and I gotta see this."

"Oh, sure honey. Lemme know if it's anything good," she winked at me and stuck her foot out in front of her to save my place as I ducked back out under the velvet rope and moved up front to get closer to the action.

"Hey, sweetheart, we've been standing in line for over an hour. People keep coming out but you're not letting anyone go in. What the fuck's goin' on? I ain't got all night." I could see a young guy, probably in his early twenties, gesticulating wildly to a petite blonde woman who I assumed to be working the door. Speaking of the guy, talk about toolbox central. He looked like he had meant to walk into Hollister but accidentally took a wrong turn into Hot Topic and ended up buying stock in the company. One of those chumps who looks like he's trying way too hard to melt into alternative culture just to fulfill some weird BDSM fantasy and rather than fooling anyone, just pisses off everyone around him instead. This douche was wearing black Chuck Taylors, a pair of tight black pants with a bullet belt, and if you can believe it, even more eye makeup than my BFF Patty. Oh, wait a fucking minute. To put the cherry on the fucking sundae, he was wearing an Unknown Pleasures shirt with the sleeves cut off. I would have bet the proverbial fucking farm this Melvin didn't know the difference between Ian Curtis and Ian McKellan, but before I could march up to this asshat and voice my opinion on the matter, the petite blonde spoke up.

"Listen up, maggot. You might not have all night, but I sure as fuck do. In fact, I have forever. I would rather stand here from sundown to sunrise every night for the rest of my undead existence than let your posturing ass in this establishment. Now be a good little insect and get to the back of the line and think again about coming up here and calling me your 'sweetheart'." She gave Mr. Hot Topic CEO a small smile and a wink before seeming to dismiss him and staring down to admire her impossibly high black patent pumps. I couldn't help but stifle a chuckle as Fratgoth bumbled for a couple of seconds, trying to think up something to say, before turning and walking to the back of the line. I was about to head back and find my place in line with Patty, but then petite blonde started talking again, seemingly to herself until I realized she was actually addressing the entire queue line.

"I have never seen so many pathetic people gathered in one place at one time. Just a bunch of groveling Plebeians seeking refuge from their mundane existences, praying and paying for the excitement of a brush with death. How utterly predictable and disappointing." Seemingly ignorant to the fact that they were being insulted, the people in the line started to hem and haw over the small amount of attention that the petite vampire was doling out to them, taking pictures and probably texting their friends. The blonde vampiress eyed the throng disdainfully and seemed resigned to letting the next people in line enter the establishment simply out of duty, before her eyes raked over me and she slammed the velvet rope back down.

"Well princess, what's your story? Too special to stand in line with the cattle?" Her eyes were slits as she fixed her icy gaze on me, a smirk on her face and her hand on her hip. I hesitated for a second and part of me reasoned that I probably should be at least a little intimidated, but my previous prolonged experiences with vampires had dampened their chokehold on my adrenal gland enough that I was able to steel my nerves and reply to her without sounding like a bumbling fool.

"No ma'am. Just another Pleb here. I was standing back in line there but I heard the commotion and didn't want to miss the show. You fucking annihilated Fratgoth, it was awesome." I shot her a small smile and turned to walk back to Patty when I heard the sound of the plush red door opening and the loud, angry music flooding out into the night.

"Congratulations, princess. You're just slightly less worthless than your fellow commoners. Hand over your ID and get out of my sight." Her bored facial expression caught me off guard but the sparkle in her eye betrayed her. Somehow I had managed to amuse her enough to not only diffuse the tense situation, but now I was able to get into the bar without waiting in that stupid ass line. I'd count it as a win.

I fished for my ID in my clutch and handed it over. She raked her eyes from the ID back to me a couple of times before finally speaking. "Francesca, is it? Welcome to Fangtasia, the bar with a bite. Take care that you don't end up someone's meal, you do look awfully tasty." She drawled out the last two words of that sentence like she was hard up for cash and working a sex line. The result was a visible shiver that went up my spine, which softened the vampiress's expression a bit but didn't remove the boredom completely. I got the feeling that when it came to this chick, I'd prefer boredom mingled with amusement over straight boredom any day.

"Thanks, I'll try to remember that. Oh, and call me Frankie. Everyone does." I stuffed my ID back into the clutch and crossed the threshold into the bar. The first thing I did was let out an audible sigh. I had told myself over and over again that I wouldn't get mixed back up into this shit, but here I was, feeling like I was stepping back onto solid earth after forty days and nights on Noah's ark.


	2. Revenge

As I walked over to the bar I made a quick mental note of the song throbbing at an almost uncomfortable level over the sound system. _Guilty_ by Gravity Kills. I couldn't hide my smirk as I remembered that this song was in one of my favorite movies, Se7en. All I could do was hope and pray that I didn't run across someone tonight that had plans to cut off my head and stuff it into a box. A quick flash went through my head reminding me that most supes were capable of things much worse than simply removing your head from your shoulders. I sighed again as I reached the bar and waited to be serviced.

There was a gaunt Native American vampire running the bar area tonight, with long black hair parted severely down the middle and a scowl that rivaled the one worn by the little blonde working the door. He took his sweet time making his way down to me and said simply, "What do you need?"

I tried to match his bored expression and said flatly, "I doubt very much that you've got anything that I truly need, but I'd like a Jack and Coke if it's not too much trouble." No amusement registered on his face as he went to work making my drink. I smirked internally. Oh well, can't win 'em all. I paid for my drink, grabbed it, took a sip that helped straighten my spine up a bit, and went into the pulsing crowd to mingle and hopefully find some decent looking dude to grind on for a while.

I had just wedged my way into the middle of the crowd on the dance floor when the song changed to one of my favorite songs to dance to – Ministry's _Revenge_. Any apprehension I had about making a fool of myself tonight went out the window as I quickly chugged the rest of my drink so I could put all of my focus into dancing. I spied a decent looking guy, not paying too much attention to detail, who appeared to be mingling with no one in particular and planted myself firmly in front of him, grinding my ass into his groin, banging my head around to the beat and whipping him in the face with my pigtails. To my immense delight, I heard him chuckle behind me and felt him lightly grip my hip with his left hand, using his right hand to rake lightly up and down my right side. I tried not to let any apprehension reach my face as the coldness from his hands penetrated my skin and my psyche, confirming that he was of the undead persuasion. Why did I have to be so drawn to these fuckers? I knew most of the people here had to be humans but of course I went straight for a vamp. I corralled my negative thoughts and reminded myself that I had just agreed to have fun tonight and stop worrying for once. I steeled myself and reached up and behind to circle my hands around his neck, closing my eyes and tilting my head back and leaning it on his chest as we continued to rub on each other. We stayed this way for a while before I could feel the warmth of the Jack and Coke gently radiating out from my belly and I realized I wanted another. I was about to excuse myself when I opened my eyes to see the vampire staring down at me intently, with a naturally sexy looking smile on his face. He was about a head taller than me, and his eyes were a gorgeous shade of honey brown, almost amber in color. He had beautiful alabaster skin, no big surprise there, and chestnut hair that fell to his shoulders and down into my face as he looked at me. His strong brow and Aquiline nose accented his slender yet masculine face perfectly, and his thin yet kissable-looking lips were being drawn into an even wider smile that threatened to expose his teeth soon as I realized that I had been standing there, gyrating, gazing up into his eyes like an idiot for way too long.

I slowly brought my hands around from his neck and grazed his jawbone as I brought them back to my sides. I saw his eyes close briefly and his smile grew even more. Had he enjoyed that? Was that a flash of pleasure? Whatever it was, it was sexy as hell. It made me smile, too. I moved my head from his chest and started walking back over to the bar, glancing over my shoulder and letting some mischief kick in as I grinned even wider at him in what I hoped was a sexy way. He was still standing there, his hands at his side, watching me. His smile was so big now that I could see his teeth, and noticed that his fangs were out. Once again, my body and my mind fought with each other. My mind was again reminding me that I had vowed to stay away from vampires, while my body was screaming at my mind to shut the hell up while I went out back in the alley and let tall, dark, and handsome bite and fuck me.

I gulped hard when I reached the bar and ordered another Jack and Coke, and it seemed that the bartender and I had reached a mutual understanding to spare the pleasantries as he wordlessly mixed my drink. I reached into my purse and was about to lay some cash down on the bar top when a delicate, pale hand closed on top of mine. A voice that was like leather and silk at the same time rippled from behind me, wrapping around my brain and brushing against my groin.

"Please, let me." I turned around to face exactly who I knew I would find. Tall, dark, and handsome let go of my hand and I put my money back in my clutch. He smiled at me before shifting his gaze to Mr. Congeniality behind the bar, "Put it on my tab, along with anything else the lady orders this evening. I'd like another B negative."

I regarded my vampire suitor (ha) silently while we waited for our drinks. I grabbed mine when it was set before me and a short time later the vampire grabbed his bottle of blood and held out his hand expectantly. I may or may not have blushed a little and averted my gaze as I gently placed my hand in his and followed him over to a table in the corner. He continued to hold my hand and helped me up onto the high bar chair before sitting down across from me. His smile had melted into a sexy little smirk as he watched me take a small ladylike sip of my drink through the straw. Normally I don't give a shit and I just drink out of the side of the glass, but for some idiotic reason I wanted to look sexy and dainty and what-the-fuck-ever. I set my drink down on the napkin and looked him in the eye.

"Thanks for the drink, that's really nice of you. What's your name?" I had always been pretty direct when it came to dealing with people. Even though some might not share my beliefs, I felt that vampires did count as people. Scary, angry, violent, immortal people, but people nonetheless. Once again my extensive history with vampires had given me excellent insight into how to straddle a very delicate line in vampire-human relations – how to be appear bold and intriguing without overstepping your boundaries and being presumptuous.

"You're quite welcome. My name is Michael. Will you do me the honor of telling me yours?" Oh god, this guy was just too much. Charming, ridiculously beautiful _and_ uncharacteristically well-mannered. I thought back to what the petite blonde vamp at the door had said to me about not becoming someone's meal. If tall, dar- I mean Michael, kept this shit up, I'd volunteer to be a whole damn buffet.

"My name's Francesca, but everyone calls me Frankie. You can call me whatever you'd like, though. It's the least I can offer you now that I'm on your tab." I was trying to flirt. Was it working? Was I flirting? I wasn't used to playing this cat-and-mouse game with anyone, least of all vampires. Normally I knew exactly what I wanted and vampires were especially adept at taking what they wanted, so we both just met in the middle and called it good. This guy, though… this guy made me want savor the moment.

Michael chuckled and took a sip of his blood before replying. "You definitely look like a Frankie. It's cute. So what brings you to Fangtasia tonight, Frankie? You don't look like a fangbanger." So this guy was capable of cutting to the chase too. I liked that. Kept me on my toes. I had a feeling he and I could become great friends if we were both so inclined. Again, I figured we were both way more than inclined, considering what had just transpired ten minutes ago on the dance floor.

"To be honest, I didn't intend on coming out here tonight. I was just out wandering around when I noticed this place for the first time and decided to come in and check out what all the fuss was. So far you're the most interesting thing in here." I grinned at him and he returned it, but turned his head to look over his shoulder for a moment before meeting my gaze again.

"I thank you for the compliment, but I wouldn't go saying that too loudly. You run the risk of being overheard by people who would beg to differ."

I had to laugh at that. "Oh really? Well I guess we would just have to agree to disagree then, because I think you're pretty fucking spectacular. Not to mention that you're one hell of a dancer." He laughed loudly at that, arranging his features into a beautiful fresco as his smile reached up into his eyes. Almost as suddenly as I got to see his eyes light up, however, the light disappeared as he once again looked over his shoulder. When he turned his head back to face me, the expression on his face was unreadable, but what he said next worried me and I could feel my pulse quicken.

"Well, my dear Frankie, it appears as though you are being given the opportunity to argue your case. You are being summoned."

I must have contorted my face into something awful at that because a small smile briefly flashed across his face again. "Summoned? Are you fucking with me? All we're doing is sitting here talking. Who's summoning us?"

"Not us. Only you. You would be wise to respond." Again he looked over his shoulder and this time I followed his gaze to the far wall of the bar where a stage was raised. How I had missed it when I walked in, I'm not sure, but now that my attention had been drawn to it, I couldn't look away. Well, it really wasn't the stage that I was drawn to, but rather the vampire sitting on the stage. Though I was sure he could feel me staring at him, especially since he was the one who had apparently summoned me, he never so much as looked in my direction. While Michael was soft and sweet and honey, this vampire was nothing but frost and steel.

He was a magnificent physical specimen, that was for sure. Even sitting down in a chair that was more accurately described as a throne he appeared to be extremely tall, much taller than Michael. His hair was a beautiful golden blonde that hung down to his bicep and I thought I could make out a faint five-o-clock-shadow. He was wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top couple of buttons fashionably undone, and it did not escape my notice that I could again pick out a dusting of blonde chest hair. Though his shirt was decidedly in my way, I could also tell that he was extremely muscular. He was an imposing hulk of a man, no doubt about it. Black jeans, black boots, large silver-toned belt buckle. Christ, what was this? Why was I drinking this dude up like a desert oasis? Shit, I'd been schmoozing with Michael for damn near half an hour now and still hadn't really bothered to take in what he was wearing. I must have been staring for too long because an unnecessary cough drew me out of my reverie and back to Michael.

"Who is that? What does he want with me? You can't come with me?" I tried not to sound too pathetic but I had a strong feeling that whatever confrontation I was about to have with the Frost Giant was going to put a huge damper on my plans of being Michael's midnight snack.

"You'll have to find out for yourself what he wants, Frankie. I can't come with you, I haven't been summoned. I will wait for you here. You'd better get a move on, he absolutely hates having to repeat himself. His name is Eric."


	3. Untrust Us

I took a couple of deep, cleansing breaths and quickly drank the rest of my drink before standing up, smoothing out my clothes, and giving Michael a quick peck on his cool cheek. He reached up to gently caress my arm and I said, "Wish me luck." He gave me one of those cute small smiles and replied, "Good luck Frankie. I'll see you in a bit." God, I sure hoped he would.

I stood up and slowly zigzagged my way through the tables until I reached the stage. I had approached it from the right side and was looking at the blonde vampire's profile. Once again I was struck by how handsome he was. Of course, all vampires are attractive to some degree, and I couldn't forget how attracted I was to Michael, but this guy, "Eric" I guess, was something different. I knew he could feel my presence there by the side of the stage but like earlier he made no move to acknowledge me. He just sat there slouched like he was having the worst night of his whole life, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his arms resting gently on the armrests of his throne, staring straight ahead seemingly at nothing in particular. Wait, why was I calling it a throne? Who sits on a throne in a bar? Whatever. There was no doubt that it was a throne and this guy was the king of… whatever this place and these people were. I was just about to move to stand directly in front of him and catch his gaze when I noticed a woman approaching him directly and decided to observe for a moment.

She was a nicely built girl, but a little too thin with obviously fake tits pushed up to her chin in a cheap corset. Her face was done up in typical goth fashion with black lipstick and garish white foundation – ew! She slinked her way up to the stage directly in front of the large vampire and set her hands palm down on the stage, leaning into the side of the stage and smooshing her tits even more. "Hello Master, my name is Heather. I've come to offer myself to you, I would be honored to feed you tonight," she purred. Well, tried to purr. If the blonde vamp at the door had sounded like a sex line operator, this chick sounded like a preteen trying to turn on her very first boyfriend.

The large frosty vampire actually moved his head toward her and seemed to regard her for a second before slowly extending one of his long legs until his foot was next to her hand. Faster than I could even register, his foot was on top of her hand, pressing down with calculated pressure until I could see pain flash across her face and a yelp escaped her mouth. Just as fast as he had put his foot down, he removed it and assumed his bored posture again. Heather was cradling her hand to her chest and staring at him with a very obvious mixture of fear and lust. Oh, brother. This guy just crushed your hand for no reason and you still want to jump his bones? Pathetic, honey. Just plain sad. I rolled my eyes and watched her slink away with her tail between her legs before I walked around the corner of the stage to take her place in front of Eric. I made a couple of mental notes: one, do not touch the stage, and two, wait for him to speak first.

I took a breath as I stared straight ahead with my arms behind my back. I stared at his chest for a few seconds until I gathered enough courage to bring my gaze up to his face and felt a small spark of excitement when I realized he was finally looking directly at me. Up close he was even more stunning than I had realized. My breath caught and I had to remind myself to breathe, which was difficult since most of my concentration was devoted to keeping my heart rate under control. I knew he could tell the mammoth effort I was putting into keeping a calm exterior because I saw his blank expression soften a bit for just a fraction of a second before bouncing back to cool apathy. I was just about to look back away from his face when he finally spoke.

"Francesca Davies. What brings you to my bar tonight?" My eyes shot back up to his impassive face and I felt my heart jump up into my throat. How in the fuck did he know my last name? The ID I had given the vamp at the door was a fake, I was certain I hadn't told anyone here my last name, and I absolutely hadn't met Eric before. There's no way I would forget a vampire like him. Oh man, this couldn't be good. I gulped audibly before answering.

"How do you know my last name? Have we met before?"

"Did I give you the impression that this was quid pro quo? It isn't. You will answer me now." Oh no, this was so not good. This was decidedly bad. Very bad. I found myself missing Michael very much and wishing I could just run back to our table, grab him, and get the fuck out of this bar.

"Nothing in particular brought me here. I just happened to notice this place and decided to check it out. It's nice," I said in what I prayed was a level, neutral tone. It felt like my blood was popping in my veins like grease in a hot skillet. I was definitely excited and anticipating something, regardless of the fact that my brain was screaming at my body to be afraid.

"Nice? Just nice?" His face was still a blank slate.

"Well, no. It's more than that, really. I can't think of a single word to accurately describe it. The décor is tasteful and the music is a lot more fun to dance to than some of the other bars I've checked out around here. The drinks are reasonably priced and your bartender's got a pleasantly strong hand. How's that? Are you going to tell me how you know my name now?" Here I was straddling that line between obnoxiousness and charming sass. I could only hope that he thought I was as charming as I did. The neutral expression on his face betrayed nothing, and his relaxed posture screamed boredom, but I guess I could at least bank on the fact that he wasn't in an attack stance. One of the scariest things I had ever seen was a vampire ready to pounce.

"I am a very important vampire, Francesca. When things happen in this state, I know about them, even when they happen down in New Orleans. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you how quickly news travels in the supe community, and your dealings with Sophie Ann have not escaped my notice. Perhaps you would like to continue this conversation in private." He paused for a moment to scan the crowd and I was thankful for a piece of silence to gather my thoughts in. The only thought I really had to gather was that I was about ten, maybe fifteen minutes away from being deader than dead. As soon as he mentioned Sophie Ann I felt an icy cold tendril of fear reach through my chest and poke my heart. I didn't doubt that many vampires would recognize my name, but how was he sure enough about what I looked like to call me out in public like this? Bridget had assured me that the spell would hold even up in Shreveport…

I must have been deep in thought because a loud snap made me jump and brought my attention back to Eric. Had he really just snapped his fingers at me like I was some sort of mutt? I finally managed to say, "I have a feeling I would rather not continue this conversation at all, but I'm guessing that isn't an option, huh?" I felt the tendril of fear blossom into a web of frigid vines that seemed to radiate out from my heart through my arteries and into my whole body.

"Very astute. Come with me." He rose slowly from the throne and gave one last scan of his bar. I quickly looked over my shoulders and noticed that some people were watching him, rapt and murmuring. This seemed to amuse him and a small smirk settled on his full, beautiful lips. He walked down the stairs on the left side of the stage and seemed to be heading toward a black door with an "Employees Only" sign on it. At that moment I remembered that I had legs and almost had to run to keep up with his long, sure strides. I followed him through the door and into a small hallway that opened up to a store room on the left and an unmarked black door on the right. He opened the door and stood aside so that I could enter what I assumed to be his office, then closed and locked the door behind us.

He gestured to one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk while going around and easing himself into the plush leather office chair on the other side. He leaned back casually and put his feet up on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle. His hands were steepled under his chin and he seemed to be regarding me as though he didn't know what to do with me. This surprised me since most vampires always seemed to have a plan. His silence was making me uncharacteristically nervous and I figured the sooner I gave him what he wanted, the sooner he would either kill me or let me go back to Michael. Both of those options seemed preferable to being stuck in the sub-zero spotlight of his gaze any longer. I sighed and decided that this was one vampire I was not going to toy around with.

"Alright. You got me. I'm Francesca Davies, though I'd prefer it if you called me Frankie. Anyway, yes. I was involved with Queen Sophie Ann and Andre." He raised his eyebrow at the word "queen." My knowledge of the vampiric political hierarchy seemed to surprise him. I continued, "Yes, I am aware of vampire kings and queens and sheriffs and all that stuff. I performed services for the Queen as a witch and medium. At first it was voluntary, but then she and Andre began demanding things of me that I was not comfortable with. That was when I decided to leave, but Sophie Ann felt that I was too valuable to release, especially given that she had forced me to bond with Andre a few months prior. Finally, I bribed one of the day guards and convinced them to let me slip out of the compound. I got my friend to help me cast a spell to sever the bond with Andre, as well as one to help conceal me from vampires. Are you still with me?"

"Yes. Explain the concealment spell further."

"Well, one part of it is that it makes me smell less alluring, or whatever. Vamps have always told me that I smell and taste really good, so I wanted to make sure that none of you guys would seek me out for that reason once I left. It also works to blur my face, if that makes sense. Not that I look messed up or anything, but like, if you were to look at a photograph of me, and then look me right in the face, it wouldn't register that we were the same person. I guess it's sort of a face blindness thing? But… maybe it didn't work, since you obviously recognized me. How come you did but Michael didn't? Is it because you're older? How old are you?" Okay, I was rambling now, but it felt good to me that it was because I genuinely wanted answers and not just because I was so afraid I could pee.

"Michael is significantly younger than I am. I have been vampire for a long time. There is a good possibility that your spell was not powerful enough to affect those of significant age and power, especially if it was done in haste. You are correct that I immediately recognized you as the runaway witch from New Orleans when you entered my bar, and also correct that you are quite aromatic. I cannot attest to how you taste but perhaps we will find time to rectify that later." For the first time tonight, he looked at me with something other than veiled contempt. He looked at me the way a child looks at the biggest gift under the tree on Christmas morning. I could see amusement, lust, hunger, and something else in his eyes… was it plain ol' curiosity? If he was really as old as he let on, there probably wasn't much that surprised him anymore, but he genuinely looked as though there was something about me he couldn't quite place.

"Uh, I wouldn't count on that. Do you want to hear the rest, or what?"

"Continue."

"Okay, so, my friend helped me do the spells and I left during the day, except that the Queen hadn't actually been paying me to keep me prisoner at the Royal Palace, so I had no money or resources other than what my friends were able to help me scrape together. I was only able to make it as far as here, so I shacked up with a vampire named Cliff for a while but he met the true death when the Fellowship of the Sun attacked his nest during the day."

"Clifford Sheldon?"

"Yeah, but I always called him Cliff. I used to tell him that Clifford made him sound like an old man, and then we'd laugh that he really was an old man. You knew him?" The memory of my time with Cliff made me smile. He was pretty young for a vampire, only around 90, but he had been old compared to me. I used to tease him that if he was still alive he'd need a walker and diapers, then he would tickle me until I laughed so hard I cried. After that he would kiss the tears away until we were doing other less innocent things.

"I am Sheriff of this area. He was one of my subordinates. I was called in to investigate his death. Proceed with your story."

"Oh wow, you're the Sheriff here? Of course you are. That's just perfect. Anyway, he was really good to me and left me a pretty decent chunk of money to keep myself safe with. That's the end of the story, really. I was out walking around when I felt compelled to come here like a complete idiot. I walked right into the lair of one of the Queen's Sheriffs and now I'm here in your office and you know who I am and I figure I've got about twenty-four hours to live before you ship me back to NOLA so the Queen can rip out my tongue and lock me in her dungeons and you can claim your prize."

"You are under the impression that I wish to see harm come to you?"

"You're a Sheriff. You are bound by duty to acquiesce to your Queen's demands. It wouldn't surprise me at all if you were to tell me that the Queen's royal transport was on its way here right now to collect me and take me back to the Palace."

"I have not contacted the Queen, nor do I have any immediate plans to do such."

"So, what? You're going to let me leave? I swear, I'll leave and won't ever come back. Michael is waiting for me. We'll just go and we can forget about all of this."

"You misunderstand me, Francesca. I gave orders to have Michael sent away. No one is waiting for you. You are at the mercy of my generosity. I will tell you what is going to happen. You are going to work for me. You are going to bond to me so that I can protect my investment. You will reside in a secure location and I will provide you with a salary, but you will abide by my rules and heed my instructions without hesitation. What I am offering you is a far better deal than you could ever dream of. If you fail to convince me that I have made a wise choice by concealing your location from my Queen, I will not think twice about sending you off to your death. Is there any part of this that you do not understand?"

"Bond to you? The way I was bonded to Andre?"

He nodded and continued to look at me in a way that made me feel like a slide under a microscope. I could feel the blood rush to my head as my cheeks flared red with fear and anger. I stood up from the chair I had been in and started screaming at him.

"Excuse me? You can't keep me penned up like some prize heifer. Please, just let me go and I'll never return to your area. I'll leave tonight and never look back and the Queen will never know that I was here or that you didn't tell her about me. Please, I can't do this again. Please." I was frantic at the idea of being forced to blood bond again. The time I had spent as a thrall to Andre's mood swings was one of the lowest points of my life, and the prospect of having to go through all of that again made bile rise up the back of my throat. I started to back away and turned around to reach for the door handle, when I ran into the broad expanse of Eric's chest and stumbled back.

"Let you go? Go where? None of what I just said to you is negotiable. This is how it will be. You will heed me. You will yield to me. You will do exactly what I ask of you, when I ask it of you, and to the best of your ability, or you will use your last breath to wish that I had been magnanimous enough to send you back to New Orleans in one piece."

The blood rushing through my head echoed in my ears like the beating of a drum. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't blink, I couldn't form any coherent thoughts or make my mouth move to cast a spell. Suddenly I remembered the emergency spellcards I had in my clutch. If only I could get a moment to myself, I just might be able to light one up and weasel my way out of this mess. It was then that I remembered how repulsed vampires seemed to be by human bodily functions, including vomiting. Keeping my mouth closed, I doubled my tongue back on itself and prodded it gently toward the back of my throat. As I started to dry heave, I tried to make myself look as scared and weak as possible.

"I'm… gonna… puke. Bathroom… please…" I groaned. I clutched at my stomach with one hand, using the other to cover my mouth. My breathing sped up and tears sprung to my eyes as I realized that perhaps I was a little too good of an actor, since I actually did feel like I could ralph at any second.

I took a chance and peeked at Eric, who hadn't made a move to unlock the door but did have a pained expression on his face. I almost chuckled as I realized how disgusted he was with the situation – either let me puke in his office and stink the joint up, which would be a real bitch considering how acute a vampire's sense of smell is, or let me out of his office to go to the bathroom and risk being given the slip. I was praying for the latter not only because I wanted to get the fuck out of there, but also because I was 99% sure I really was going to puke now.

"Fucking humans," he spat, "Alright. I will let you use the facilities, but I will be waiting for you outside. I'm sure I don't have to remind you of the fact that I will be able to hear you if you try to cast a spell. Think about casting something to get away and I will have you up against the wall by your throat before you can say 'blessed be.' Understand?"

I nodded meekly and continued gagging, now hugging my clutch to my chest and trying to concentrate on taking deep breaths so I didn't vomit all over myself. Eric turned around and unlocked the door and ripped it open in one fluid motion, grabbing me by the elbow and all but dragging me down the hallway to what I guessed was the employee bathroom. He threw me onto the floor next to the toilet and sneered down at me, his disgust written all over his face.

"You have five minutes. Make them count." He slammed the door and I could hear him lean back against the wall. He was right though, I was all too familiar with how good vampires could hear. I would have to do this the right way, because it might be my only chance. I decided the best way would be to really commit to puking, since the noise would give me a bit of cover.

I continued to poke at the back of my throat with my tongue, gagging and spitting into the toilet while moaning and shuffling around. Meanwhile, I was gently unsnapping my clutch and feeling around for my spellcards and a lighter. As my fingers closed around the items I was seeking, my stomach contracted in that familiar sickening way and the remains of the steak sandwich I had eaten earlier, along with my beloved Jack and Cokes, found their way back up my esophagus. I heaved into the toilet and took the brief moment of peace between retches to find the exact spellcard I wanted, along with my lighter. I put the rest back into my clutch and closed it just before another wave of nausea hit and my head was buried back into the toilet.

"Well, it's now, or never," I thought to myself as I shoved my clutch down the waistband of my pants for safe keeping and raised the spellcard and lighter above my head. I fumbled with the items for a moment as I was still hovering over the toilet and couldn't see what I was doing. I went to ignite the lighter and felt my heart sink when I heard a click and realized it hadn't ignited. My heart threatened to pop out of my chest when I realized Eric must have heard it too, because I heard him shift outside the door. I frantically began flicking the lighter, praying to God, Buddha, or anyone who would listen that the blasted thing would light.

"God damnit, what the fuck are you doing? I told you not to fuck around." Just then the door burst open and I lifted my head from the toilet just long enough to make eye contact with the Frost Giant before the lighter finally ignited. Faster than the vampire could make it over to me, the highly flammable vellum of the spellcard burst into flame and disintegrated to ash in my hand. I felt the familiar tingle over my body as my form began to fade and the translocation process began. I knew that I was safe at this point, and calm began to wash over me. The last thing I heard before I was completely gone was a very angry vampire slamming his fist into the mirror and shattering it into a dozen pieces.


	4. You Don't Own Me

When I was fully corporeated back at my apartment, I went into full-on survival mode. I knew that Eric would be able to track my scent, and since none of the concealment spells I had cast appeared to affect him, there was no way for me to stay put without getting caught. It was still early, only about 1:30 in the morning, he would have plenty of time to find me before sunrise. I ran around my apartment like a crazy person, stuffing my clutch, clothes, small valuables, and my most important spellbooks into an overnight bag. I ripped open my freezer and grabbed the Ziploc bag of cash I had hidden in there, also adding it to the bag. Between the comfortable sum Cliff had left me and the random cash I'd been able to pick up doing tarot readings and parlor tricks here and there, I would have enough to flee somewhere more substantial than Shreveport. I was sad to leave Louisiana but after this whole debacle, I figured I had overstayed my welcome.

Even if Eric was the most amazing tracker in the world, I knew it would take him a little bit of time to find me. Translocating somewhere left no trail to follow, and since I figured my apartment was about five miles away from Fangtasia, I should have just enough time to get away before he was even able to pinpoint what direction I was in. Since I didn't have time to get everything ready to cast any kind of substantial spell, my only option was to run on foot. I threw my keys on the kitchen table and didn't bother to lock the front door behind me as I left, knowing this would be the last time I ever saw that apartment. I was kind of sad about it, I had really grown to like living there. Oh well. I'd rather be free and alive than a slave with a cute place.

I ran down the stairs and burst out the front door of the apartment building. I hesitated for a second, not knowing which way to go, before I ran down the street and eventually found myself close to the highway. I didn't own a car or know where the bus depot was, and I didn't have time to find out. I decided the fastest way would be to hitch a ride. I started walking north along the shoulder of the highway, sticking my thumb out and frantically trying to flag down the cars that sped past me. Car after car zoomed on by and I was beginning to grow frustrated when a beat up old F150 started to slow down and pull over.

I sprinted to the truck and stopped at the open passenger side window. Inside the truck sat an older, harmless looking man, wearing a plaid button up shirt and an old LSU cap. "Where ya headed, darlin'?" he drawled. For some reason though, I wasn't creeped out by that term of endearment. He seemed more like a kindly grandpa than a serial murderer, but at this point I was willing to accept a ride from Ted Bundy as long as it meant I was further away from Eric.

"Anywhere. Just far away from here," I said.

"I can get you as far as Texarkana."

"Okay, that's perfect. Great." I silently cursed the fact that Texarkana wasn't nearly as far away as I'd like to get, but I wasn't about to turn down a ride. At least it'd be out of the state so maybe I'd have a better chance at hiding from Sophie Anne's lackeys.

"Hop on in," he said, reaching across to unlock the door. I quickly jumped up into the seat and slammed the door shut, setting my overnight bag down by my feet.

"Thanks a lot, man. I really appreciate it. Just gotta get out of here, ya know?"

"Think nothin' of it, honey. I couldn't help but stop when I saw ya, you remind me so much of my granddaughter, Michelle. She's a sophomore at LSU, studyin' to be a chemist er somethin'."

"Oh wow, that's so cool. Good for her, and good for me, I guess, that I look like her."

The old man chuckled at that. "Heh, you betcha. So why ya in such a hurry to leave Shreveport? Ya got guy troubles?"

I couldn't help but smirk at just how accurate that statement was. I yawned as I realized how tired I was, the night had really taken a toll on me. I leaned my head against the window, shut my eyes, and mumbled, "Oh, yeah. Guy troubles. You have no idea."

"Go on honey, you just rest up a bit. It's real late and we'll be in Texarkana before you can believe it. I'll wake you up when we get close. Go on now, go to sleep."

Well, he didn't have to tell me twice. I hunkered down into the seat, yawned again, and tried to think positive thoughts about my new life in Arkansas. Maybe I could spend the night at some crappy motel and then hitch over to Little Rock the next day. I was mulling the possibilities over in my mind when I finally relaxed enough to drift off into a light, but pleasant, sleep.

I was torn from my dreamless slumber by a rather sizable string of profanities coming from the old guy driving.

"Son of a bitch, what in the hell's goin' on?" he mumbled angrily. I checked the clock and realized we'd only been driving for about 45 minutes, we were close to Texarkana but not quite there yet. I also realized that I could feel the truck slowing down, even though we were on an open stretch of highway with no other cars in sight.

I rubbed my eyes and tried to work the kink out of my neck. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

"I don't know, darlin'. There's some damn guy standing in the middle of the road. Sumbitch is lucky I'm a law abidin' citizen or I'd like to have hit his damn dumb ass!"

"What? There's someone in the road? Are they hurt?" I still wasn't completely awake yet, nor was I sure that this wasn't some fucked up dream. All of my attention was focused on the driver, I hadn't even thought to look out the window and see what was going on.

"I don't know, he's just standin' there. He don't look hurt. You stay in the truck, I'll go see if-" his voice trailed off and silence overcame the truck. I finally sat upright and followed his gaze out through the windshield to the figure standing smack dab in the middle of our lane, illuminated by the headlights, and beginning to walk slowly towards us. As the figure neared, I felt my entire body begin to shudder as I took in the long, straight, blonde hair and frigid blue eyes that bore straight through me into my soul.

I thought he would come straight for me, but instead he went around to the driver's side and rested his forearms on the window sill. He stared at me intently, not saying anything, no expression on his face except for a small upturn of one side of his mouth.

"Son, just what the hell d'ya think yer doin'? Standin' in the middle of the road like some damn crazy person?" the old man said to him. I wanted to tell the man to gun it, or to run, to save himself. He had been good to me and there was a burning pyre of guilt inside of me that I had been stupid enough to allow him to get caught up in this nonsense. I had no idea what Eric was going to do, but I had a pretty good inkling of what he was capable of, and this man deserved none of it. However, instead of lashing out and choking the man or overturning the truck, Eric looked him straight in the eye and said, "What's your name?" I watched intently as the man's face grew slack and his vision clouded. I knew he was being glamored.

"Larry. Larry Butler, sir."

"Larry, where are you headed tonight?"

"Texarkana, Arkansas, sir. I live there. I'm headed back from visiting my granddaughter Michelle at LSU. She's gonna be a chemist."

"Wow, a chemist. That's amazing. You've had a very peaceful night tonight, haven't you Larry? You went straight from Baton Rouge all the way back to Texarkana without stopping at all, not even to use the restroom. You just can't wait to get back and tell everyone how great Michelle is doing, and that's why you wanted to get home as soon as possible. You never stopped to pick up any hitch hikers and you don't remember this young lady at all, do you?" Eric pointed to me and Larry turned his head slowly, his foggy eyes following the gesture until he was looking at me, then looked back to Eric and shook his head.

"No, sir. I wouldn't pick up no hitch hikers. I gotta get home to tell everyone about Michelle."

"Good, Larry. That's right. This woman and I are going to leave now, and you never saw either one of us. When I tap on the back of your truck, you're going to start driving and not look back until you're home." Before I could even register what was happening, Eric was suddenly on my side of the truck, flinging the door open and ripping me down from the cab. The placid demeanor he had used with Larry was gone, replaced with a mask of barely contained rage.

"Oh, you silly little girl. Did you think I was playing a fucking game with you?" he held me tightly by the elbow and reached into the truck to grab my bag and throw it to the ground. With one fluid motion, he whipped the zipper open, grabbed my clutch, and shook it in my face. "What the fuck did you do? What did you use to get away? Tell me," he roared. He slammed the truck door shut and dragged me back behind the truck, giving a firm slap to the tailgate. Just like clockwork, Larry cranked the engine and began to drive away. I thought about yelling for him to turn around and help me, but part of me was extremely thankful that he had been able to get away unscathed.

"Did you hear me, you stupid child? TELL ME." Eric was yelling at me now, shaking me violently with every word. It felt like my shoulder was going to get pulled out of its socket.

"Spellcards, okay? Spellcards. You burn them and whatever spell is written on the card gets cast without having to be spoken out loud." I grimaced as he shook me in his rage. I could already feel the bruises forming where his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my forearm.

"Un-fucking-believable. Well, Ms. Davies, tonight's your lucky night. I haven't been on a chase like that in a while, and you know how we vampires love the thrill of the hunt. I've decided not to kill you just yet, but mark my fucking words, pull a stunt like that again and I will pull your fingernails out one by one with pliers."

I gulped hard and tried to think of something to say, but before I could even open my mouth I felt a dull, blunt pain on the back of my head. I fought against my waning consciousness unsuccessfully and the last thing I could remember was a sensation like I was flying.


	5. Love You to Death

Oh. My. God. It felt like a miniature marching band was practicing in my head. This was the worst headache of my entire life. Actually, the headache was just a small piece of my overall pain. My arms hurt, my legs hurt, my neck hurt… damn, all of me hurt. I hadn't even tried to open my eyes yet because I could feel that I was blindfolded. Shit, at least I wasn't naked. I could tell I was still wearing the same clothes I had been captured in. I also realized that there was something covering my mouth so I couldn't cast any spells. Duct tape, probably, and I bet whoever came to see me next would rip it right off and do their damnedest to make it hurt like a bitch. Great, free lip wax just for me, courtesy of Eric the Asshole.

I tried to shimmy around a bit only to find that though I was laying down and as comfortable as possible given the circumstances, my arms and legs were tied to the corners of what I assumed was a bed. So, basically, I had to lay here blind, mute, and paralyzed until someone decided to waltz in and rescue me. Yeah, right.

I had no concept of time, no way to tell if it was day or night, and no idea how long I'd been unconscious. I didn't know where I was or when anyone would be coming to get me. My usually placid demeanor was beginning to crack as I thought of all the horrible things that probably awaited me, but I pushed the thoughts out of my head. Besides, there really wasn't anything that Eric could do to me that Andre hadn't already attempted. I tried to keep focused on that small glimmer of hope and was jostled from my daydream when I heard a door open. I did my best to control my breathing and stay still so that I could mentally keep track of the whereabouts of whoever had just entered. Obviously I wasn't very good at it though, because before I knew what was happening, I felt the bed indent on my right side and a very large, very cold hand caressed my neck.

"You've been a very bad little witch, Francesca. Very bad indeed. What am I to do with you? I give you a very generous offer, one that no sane person in your precarious position would dream of turning down, and instead of accepting, you trick me and run." He clicked his tongue at me and slid his hand from my neck up to my mouth. I felt him tug up one corner of the duct tape.

"I am going to untape your mouth now. You will only speak when spoken to. Try to cast a spell and I will rip out your tongue with my fangs. Nod if you understand."

I nodded frantically. I was done playing games with him… for now. Maybe if I could bide my time the way I did with Andre, eventually he would get careless and I would be able to escape and run away to the ends of the Earth. I braced myself for the deluxe lip wax I was sure to receive, but instead, I was shocked as Eric slowly and carefully peeled the tape away, taking care not to remove any skin with it. When it was gone, he moved his hand to cup my jaw, running his thumb over my swollen lips.

"Such delicious looking lips you have, Francesca. Is casting your spells all you use them for?"

I hesitated. Was he being serious? Was he trying to flirt with me or just trying to lower my guard enough so he could attack me unawares? Fucking seductive blood suckers.

"You may answer me, Francesca." Oh, thanks for giving me permission to speak, dick. I rolled my eyes beneath the blindfold.

"I use them for lots of things. Untie me and maybe you'll get to find out."

He chuckled. "Oh, trust me, I intend to, but what I have planned doesn't involve untying you, at least not entirely." He removed his hand from my jaw and I felt him hover over me. He trailed his hands down either side of my abdomen, down the outside of my thighs and all the way down to my feet, where I heard a jangle of metal as he uncuffed each of my legs.

Suddenly, he was up beside me again, this time helping me up into a sitting position. Still a slave to the fact that I couldn't see what the fuck was going on, I was surprised when I felt him weaseling in behind me, grabbing my hips and guiding me back into his crotch, his legs splayed around the outside of mine. My arms were pulled quite tightly at this angle so I rested my back against his chest to relieve the strain.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"I told you not to speak until spoken to, but I find myself in good spirits tonight so I will answer your question. I am about to protect my investment, like I told you." I mulled this over for a moment, not quite getting the meaning, but didn't have to think long when I heard the distinct click of fangs.

"Oh no. No. I don't want to bond to you. I can't bond again, please. You can't make me do this. I'll do anything but this." I felt a strong arm come around the left side of my abdomen, crushing me back to his chest even tighter.

"You will. Do not make me force you, it won't be fun for either of us that way. Now drink." I heard a crunch and suddenly I sensed that his right wrist was hovering right in front of my mouth. I could smell the sickly metallic blood. I refused to latch on to his wrist, however, even when he pressed it against my mouth and I felt the warm wetness against my lips.

"Francesca, you will do this. You will drink. Now." I had denied him long enough that the wound must have healed itself because I heard him withdraw his wrist and crunch it open again. Again I could smell the blood and fought against him when he held it up to my lips. I thought he had finally given up when his left hand relaxed its grip on my side and came up to pinch my nose shut. Oh, fuck. I held my breath as long as I possibly could, shuddering with the effort. I finally had to exhale and of course when I did so, he took the opportunity to force his wrist into my gasping mouth.

"You… dirty… son of a… bitch," I managed to croak out between ragged breaths. I felt the rumbling of his chest behind me as he chuckled, and felt a hand on the back of my head, pushing me against his shredded wrist. Once the first few drops had made it into my mouth, I was once again swept away in the allure of the blood. I had tasted vampire blood before from several of my vamp lovers, but never one so old as Eric. His blood was unlike anything I had ever tasted before, salty and metallic but sweet and rich at the same time, like an expensive gourmet chocolate. I felt the flow of blood begin to slow to a trickle and he pulled his wrist away, opened the wound for a third time, and brought it back to my mouth. Now I was hungry for his ancient blood and I latched onto his wrist like a lamprey, which seemed to please him. Apparently it was beginning to please me too, since his blood had taken away all of my previous pain and was slowly but surely replacing it with a coil of desire deep in my core.

"For someone who claims to not want this, you sure are a greedy little thing," Eric purred from behind me. Once he was convinced that I would drink from him freely, he removed his left hand from the back of my head and brought it to my neck, where he swept my hair away and over my other shoulder. I almost moaned against his wrist as he placed a series of cool, strategic kisses from the back of my neck around to where my carotid artery was. Here his tongue darted out, moistening my skin up and down over the artery from my jaw to my collar bone. He brought his arm back across my stomach just under my breasts, shifted me even closer to him, and then, without warning, he bit.

There was a moment of bliss so exquisite I can't even put it into words. The feeling of him drinking from me as I drank from him was almost too much to bear. Before I could stop myself, I struggled against my restraints and moaned loudly against his wrist. This apparently gave him the green light to grind his hips against my lower back, causing me to arch back into him and draw on his wrist even harder. I could feel the wound starting to close again, but damnit, I wasn't done with this yet, so I took a chance and nipped at it as hard as I could. Eric let out a growl from behind me and moved his left hand from my stomach up to my breast, squeezing it roughly while continuing to rub himself against my ass, still sucking on my neck.

I could feel an orgasm building deep within me and knew it would only be a matter of minutes before I was completely engulfed by it. We had been sharing blood for a while now so I knew the tie was established. I decided now that the unpleasant part of the deed was done, I was going to finish the other thing we had started and enjoy it. I drew a couple more mouthfuls from his wrist before throwing my head back onto his shoulder and letting the pleasure overtake me. While his left hand continued to paw at my breasts, his now-free right hand trailed downward over my stomach and to the top of my pants, deftly flicking open the button and gliding down underneath my panties. His cold velvet touch excited me even more and I moaned again loudly, grinding against his hand as it explored my folds and eventually settled on my aching nub, which he began to tease with slow circles.

The pressure of his hand on my sex served not only to drive me close to the edge, but also to hold me against his erection, which I could feel very distinctly now against my ass and lower back as he ground into me with increasing roughness. I did my best to meet his thrusts, wanting him to enjoy this as much as I was. He was done feeding from me now, and was planting kisses all over my shoulder and collarbone, continuing the frenzied rhythm with his hips and hand.

Suddenly, his fingers began to move impossibly quickly against my clit, while his other hand found its way under my tight latex halter top, pinching and rolling my nipple in a pleasurably painful way. My arousal was like a tightly coiled spring within me, and the combination of his attentions to my clit, nipples, and neck sent me over the edge.

"Oh, oh fuck, ahhhh," I moaned as I came, bucking as wildly against his hand as my restraints would allow. My head thrashed against his shoulder, my hips ground back into his erection. I was still riding the shockwaves of my orgasm when I felt him tense up behind me. He was lazily kissing against my neck as he let out a long "ahhhhhh" and I felt a cool wetness against my lower back. There was a small party in my head as I considered what we had just done, and that he had been as aroused as I had.

Neither of us spoke for a while as I lay back against his chest trying to control my breathing, one of his hands still down my panties, the other trailing lazily up and down my side. He was the one to break the silence.

"See? Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he rumbled from behind me. He kissed and nipped at my earlobe as he removed his hand from down my pants and re-buttoned them. I felt his right arm come up across my chest to my left shoulder, where his head was now resting. I heard him loudly suck his fingers clean of my juices, an act that I found highly erotic and which served to begin arousing me all over again.

"My dear Francesca, you are remarkably delicious in every way. Would that I could stay here and enjoy you all night, but I fear that time is of the essence. Now that we've got the first exchange out of the way, you and I must have a serious conversation. I can feel you now, you know, so any attempts to run away again will serve no purpose other than to irritate me, and we wouldn't want that, would we? I am going to untie you now, and you are going to go get cleaned up, and join me upstairs so we can talk business. I brought your bag with your things in it, it's in the bathroom. Are you ready to be an adult now, and discuss things in a civilized manner?" He said all of this very gently and seductively into my ear, taking occasional breaks to kiss my neck and tease my earlobe with his teeth. This, coupled with the fact that I had just had an extremely satisfying, much-overdue orgasm minutes earlier, left me unable to form any rational arguments to anything he had just said.

"I can think of a dozen things I'd rather do with you than sit around and discuss business," I purred, turning my still-blindfolded head to nuzzle against his cheek as he kissed my shoulder. The feel of his stubble against my cheek as he turned his head to rub against my jaw sent electric shocks through my body. He laughed softly and said, "Oh, but you are so tempting. Perhaps later I'll allow you to show me just what you'd like to do, but only if you're a good girl. For now, business." I caught myself pouting internally while I felt him climb out from behind me and reach up to undo the manacle around my right wrist. With vampire speed, he was at my left side, undoing that one as well until I was finally free. Well, as free as I could possibly be, given that I was basically this strange vampire's prisoner. Yeah, a strange vampire that had just dry humped me, fed from me, and tied us by blood. Ugh, whatever. Fuck my life.

I rubbed my wrists for a moment, expecting them to be sore from the restraints, but Eric's blood had already taken care of any chafing. I raised a tentative hand up to my blindfold and slowly pulled it up only to find myself alone in a dark room, illuminated only by the sparse moonlight filtering in through gauzy curtains. I knew I was supposed to be getting ready, and using my context clues I had been able to glean that Eric was not a patient man, but I took a moment to look around and absorb my surroundings.

I was currently propped up in the middle of what I guessed was the largest bed ever made, ever. Is there anything bigger than a California king? Anyway, now that I was actually able to enjoy it, I noted that the mattress was incredibly comfortable – just the right mix of plush pillow-top and firmness. It was covered in black silk sheets and a soft, fluffy purple down comforter. The whole spread was supported by a beautiful ebony platform frame, with a tastefully simple square headboard. In the dim light I could make out some art prints adorning the walls, a matching ebony bureau up against one wall, a large, heavy looking metal door on another, which I assumed led out into… wherever the hell this was, and finally, a door on the far wall directly across from the bed that I prayed was the bathroom.

I slowly edged down to the bottom of the bed and dangled my feet over the edge. I felt the cool, smooth wood of the platform frame beneath my feet and realized for the first time that someone had removed my boots and socks. I stared down at my eggplant-colored toes for a while before standing up and padding over to the bathroom door. I noticed that Eric had really grabbed my bag like he said he had, it was lying right in the doorway so I couldn't miss it. I grabbed it and edged into the bathroom, flipping on the light and closing the door behind me.

Just like the bedroom, the bathroom was simply yet elegantly decorated. My favorite part was that it had a separate tub and shower. The tub was deep and claw-footed, good for long soaks, and the shower was more like its own little room over in the corner, walled in by glass with a large shower head hanging straight down from the ceiling. There was a double vanity with a new toothbrush and toothpaste on it and a large medicine cabinet, which I of course had to snoop in and found unsurprisingly empty. The walls were a beautiful teal green color and all the tile work was jewel-toned. There was a large potted ficus tree in the corner by the toilet, which was my first destination. After I relieved myself, I began to strip off my old clothes. God only knew how long I had been unconscious down here, how many days it had been since I had showered. The thought disgusted me, and I grew embarrassed thinking about what had just transpired with Eric. Poor guy.

I headed over to the shower and turned it on to warm up, then poked around the vanity until I found a hair brush. I ripped the brush through my long, wavy locks, not having the patience to detangle it properly. I finally took note of my appearance in the mirror, and of course I looked like I had been ridden hard and put up wet. My formerly smoky eye makeup was halfway down my face. "Great, you're so hot, Frankie," I thought to myself as I sighed and set the brush back down on the counter and grabbed a nearby washcloth, which was a beautiful emerald green color, to scrub my face. When I was satisfied with that, I finally made my way to the shower, clicking the glass door shut behind me and raising my face to the overhead spray.

I hadn't even considered that I would need toiletries, but to my immense delight, I found the shower was already stocked with everything I could possibly want. I chuckled to myself as I thought about Patrick Bateman and his water activated gel cleanser and honey almond body scrub; dude would have an absolute field day in here. Lined up like soldiers on stone shelves built into the walls of the shower were bottles of shampoo, conditioner, deep treatments, masques, body washes, scrubs, exfoliators, oils, basically any bath item you could possibly fathom, all high-end salon and department store brands. Again, not surprising, since I had never really pegged Eric as the type to shop at WalMart. I also saw a washcloth, a loofah, a sponge, a pumice rock, and a razor. I was actually excited the most about the razor, since I had felt the stubble on my legs as I pulled my pants off.

I shaved my legs, armpits, and bikini line first, sitting down on the built-in bench and taking my sweet time to make sure I hadn't missed any hair. Then I chose one of the many available body scrubs, one that smelled like jasmine and honeysuckle, and rinsed it away with a matching shower gel. I rubbed one of the oils into my skin to soften it while I washed and conditioned my hair, and finally used some of the expensive-looking facial cleanser to remove any residual makeup that I had missed.

Once I was squeaky clean, I grabbed a plush emerald-green bath towel that was so large I could almost wrap it around myself twice and went to rummage through my bag for some clean clothes. I had packed in such haste and gone through so much since then that I wasn't even sure anymore of what I had with me. I grabbed a plain baby pink bra and bikini panties set, some skinny jeans with rips over the knees, and a grey V neck t-shirt and took them out into the bedroom to get dressed. I hadn't seen a comb in the bathroom and I hated brushing my hair when it was wet, so I finger-combed it the best I could and left it in damp waves down my back. I tried to prolong the process of getting ready as much as possible but I finally found myself with nothing to do but go find Eric. I sighed and headed over to the large metal door and found it open.

I poked my head around the corner of the doorframe and found myself looking at... nothing. There were no windows and no lights on so everything was completely black. I was not about to go creeping around some strange place in the dark with an unfamiliar vamp in close proximity, so I decided to play it safe. Knowing he could likely hear me wherever he was, I said, "Eric? Where are you? I can't see anything." I got no response, so I said more loudly, "Eric? Come on, I know you can hear me. I'm ready." I sighed and figured he either really couldn't hear me, or he was testing me and waiting for me to come to him, so I held my hands out in front of my face and shuffled along, using the wall as a guide in the pitch blackness.

I had made it what I guessed was about five feet when a cold hand slapped down on my shoulder. I shrieked and spun around, swinging my hands in front of me wildly. Two strong hands gripped my wrists and a smooth baritone laughed out of the darkness, "Shh, calm down, it's only me."

With his hands still around my wrists, he let me slap him on the chest a few times for good measure. "You son of a bitch, you scared the shit out of me! Why couldn't you just come get me face to face like a normal person? I know you could hear me."

"You're right, I could, but that wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining."

"You're such an asshole," I said, slapping him on the chest again. He chuckled once more and then grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around, pushing me gently forward. "Go on," he said, "keep walking forward. There's a door about five feet away."

"Why are you making me go first? You're the one who can see. Why not just go open the fucking door instead of making me stumble around in the dark? You're just loving this, aren't you?" I whined at him as I continued my small baby steps forward, hands in front of me since, last I checked, I was not a smug blonde vampire with night vision.

"Language, Francesca, language! What a mouth you have… " he trailed off and moved one of his hands from my shoulder up to my neck, drawing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. "What a mouth indeed."

I rolled my eyes and internally rejoiced when my hand finally came into contact with the smooth wood of a door. I groped around for the handle and pulled it open slowly, my eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the room. Rather than finding myself in some warehouse or building Eric used to conduct business in, I was in a house. I saw the front door, a dark wood with elegant stained glass panels in it. The glow was coming from a living room off to the left, a roaring fire surrounded by a clean, modern tiled mantle. There were two black leather couches sitting in front of it, facing each other, with a large flat panel television hanging on the wall across from the fireplace. A black coffee table was between the couches, sitting on top of a plush eggplant colored rug. Did Eric like purple just as much as I did, or was he just assuming it was my favorite color because he figured I was one of those typical goth fangbangers that wouldn't even look at anything unless it was red, black, or purple? Even if the latter was true, then that would mean he had decorated this place with me in mind. Two things alarmed me about this: one, just how long had I been unconscious for him to get this rigged up, and two, why did he give a shit about my preferences? Why not just lock me up somewhere and throw away the key if all he did was plan to use me for my magic?

I hadn't even realized that I had been edging forward into the foyer while I admired the living room from afar until I heard a sound behind me. I turned around to see Eric leaning against the frame of the door we had just come through, arms crossed across his chest, staring at me with a small smirk. "Well, what do you think?" he said, averting his gaze from my face to look around the room with an air of smugness.

"What do I think about what?"

"About the house. The décor. Is it to your liking?"

"From what I've seen so far it looks great, but what's the catch? Where are we?"

"We are in your new home. Well, technically, it is my home that I am allowing you to use while you are under my employ. This is where you will stay from now on."

"Oh…" I didn't really know how to respond to that. I vaguely recalled our conversation at Fangtasia where he had made it sound like he would provide me with a safe place to stay, but I had figured he meant keeping me locked up in a cell somewhere, rather than in a posh little bachelorette pad.

"'Oh?' That's all you have to say?"

"I don't really know what to say. Part of me wants to thank you, because this place looks really cute, but the other part of me just can't get over the fact that I'm essentially a prisoner here to do your bidding."

"Touché. I suppose you are correct about that in essence, but I would rather you come to view the situation as a positive instead of a negative. It is not so much that you are a prisoner, but as I have stated, I am taking a big risk by not handing you over to Sophie Anne. Is It so difficult to believe that you are safer hidden here than out among vampires much less practical than I? Think about it: would you rather be here, now, with me, in this house that I have gone out of my way to prepare for you, or in New Orleans, chained to a wall in the Queen's barracks, begging Andre for mercy while he violates you?"

I didn't even have to think about my answer to that question. I would rather die than go back to Sophie Anne and Andre. Much of my time on the run over the last year had been spent inside my own head, trying to cleanse my mind and spirit of the ugly taint left by the cruel monarch and her deranged progeny. I moved closer to Eric and tried to smile, "You're right, I know. I guess I'm just mad at myself that I got caught, but if I had to get caught at all, I'm glad it was by you, and I'm glad that I'm here instead of back at the palace. I never thanked you for not turning me in. I should have."

That small act of submission seemed to please Eric, because his ever-present smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile that made me weak in the knees. His perfectly straight white teeth glittered and I noticed that his cheeks dimpled gently. Oh, Jesus, help me.

"Now, Francesca, you are starting to sound like someone I will enjoy doing business with. Come, let us find somewhere more suitable to talk than the foyer." He straightened up and gestured for my hand. I timidly placed my small hand in his large one and let him lead me into the living room. Since I had only peeked into it, I had missed the doorway off to the left side of the room, which led to an office area. There was a large, shiny black desk covered with office supplies and a sleek, expensive-looking computer, with a nice office chair behind the desk and a couple of plush leather armchairs in front of it. Potted plants of all varieties littered the room, which was also chock full of books on various topics. Eric led me to one of the plush leather chairs and went around the desk to sit behind it, propping his legs up the way he had that night at Fangtasia.

"Man, this is giving me a serious case of déjà vu," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, thinking of ways to broach the subject of just how long I'd been knocked out.

"Having flashbacks to the night of your failed escape? I do hope you've learned your lesson, I'd hate to have to knock you out again. I don't enjoy striking women, even stupid, stubborn ones." He flashed his movie star grin at me again and I rolled my eyes.

"No, I'm not going anywhere. I can't outrun you, I don't have the necessary reagents to cast any sort of meaningful spells, and I'm sure you've seen to it that my spellcards are long gone."

"Ah, yes, the cards. The concept is quite interesting, I admit that I regretted having to dispose of them, but I cannot take another risk, you see."

"No, of course not," I huffed sarcastically, "If you don't mind me asking, just how long ago was that night?"

"After I knocked you out, I brought you here immediately and secured you. I went to ground, came back the next night and you were still unconscious, or sleeping, I'm not sure. I did make sure you were alive, though."

"Oh, gee, thanks. You're a real stand up guy, Eric," I interrupted.

"Of course. I did stay for a while just in case you woke up, but you did not, so I again went to ground and returned here tonight. Obviously, much to my immense delight, you appear to have made a full recovery. So to answer your question, you came into my bar two nights ago."

As if on cue to remind me of just how long I'd been tied up, my stomach rumbled audibly, causing my cheeks to flush since I knew Eric had heard it too. I rubbed my stomach and shot him an embarrassed smile. "I don't suppose you had the foresight to stock the kitchen with food, did you?"

"I did not personally see to it, but I gave orders to have the entire house stocked with whatever you might need. Let us get some important matters out of the way and then we'll go exploring."

I was a bit taken aback by how accommodating Eric was being. I didn't want to get my hopes up that this little 'arrangement' could work out, but if he was being as upfront about the whole situation as he seemed to be, and it was really true that I got to live in this house, have protection, and get paid to do the same crap I'd been doing for Sophie Anne for free, maybe walking into Fangtasia that night would turn out to be a happy accident.

"Okay," I replied, "Do I have to sign papers or something?"

"A few. Aren't you curious as to what your duties will entail?"

"I guess I just assumed it would be similar to the services I performed for the Queen."

"I try to busy myself with Sophie Anne's routines as little as possible. What exactly did she have you do?"

"Well, mostly I'd just keep an eye on her human staff, casting spells to make them loyal and honest. She preferred my spells to simply glamoring them because those particular spells are relatively non-invasive and can be cast and removed on a whim, whereas I'm sure you know glamoring is permanent, easy to detect, and has obvious long-lasting side effects."

Eric had a thoughtful look on his face while I spoke. He nodded and gestured for me to continue.

"She would also have me ward any properties that she bought, and certain possessions like her cars, planes, and yacht. On a couple of occasions she had me work with other witches to stage ectoplasmic reconstructions, and to cloak a couple of her subjects to infiltrate Peter Threadgill's kingdom to gain information on his assets. That's basically it for the major stuff. She had me dabble in various potions and incantations for random things on the side, but not often."

The room was silent for a moment as Eric seemed to be contemplating something. I was content to simply gaze at his handsome face while he was deep in thought until he broke the silence.

"Francesca, this may be a difficult question for you to answer, but I want you to try. You said to me in my office at Fangtasia that Sophie Anne was demanding things of you that you were not comfortable with. What sort of things was she asking you to do?"

I sighed and thought about refusing to answer his question, but I knew that he wouldn't stand for silence. I decided to just take the plunge, get it all off my chest, and hope that he wouldn't press the issue. "Basically, Sophie Anne was obsessed with necromancy. At first it started as a simple curiosity, possibly to test the extent of my powers, but it moved away from that quickly and soon it became all she talked about. Raising the dead, reconstructing the dead, controlling the dead. It consumed her. I tried to tell her it was uncharted water, that there was very little record of successful re-animation and that what record did exist was extremely old, vague, and hard to understand. I was even more worried about her interests in the control part; she seemed convinced that since vampires are technically dead, any necromantic spells I was able to cast would work on vampires as well. If I was successful in finding and mastering any such spells, Sophie Anne would easily have become the most powerful monarch in the country, perhaps even in the world. That scared me. It scared me how obsessed she had become; that she had such delusions of grandeur that she was willing to risk her own life, the lives of everyone involved with her, and especially my life to see her delusions come to fruition. Plus, the idea of re-animating the dead or controlling other people just seemed unethical to me. It was a line drawn in the sand that I wasn't willing to cross, but of course my convictions meant nothing to her and she wouldn't let the issue drop."

I paused for a breath, since I had more or less been rambling, and tried to gauge Eric's reaction to the craziness I had just told him. Who knows if he even believed me, hell, I hardly believed it myself. Necromancy? Raising and controlling the dead? I could have pinched myself to see if I was dreaming the first time Sophie Anne mentioned it to me. Eric brought me out of my reflection by saying, "It is not often that I am surprised, but Sophie Anne's idiocy truly amazes me. I always knew she was unstable, but it appears that I have underestimated the depths of her insanity. You spoke of Andre earlier. What role did Andre play in all of this?"

This was the part of the conversation that I had truly been dreading. Sophie Anne had been crazy and relentless in her efforts to the point of being verbally cruel at times, but she had never actually physically harmed me. No, that had been left to Andre. The Queen had always turned a blind eye to my injuries and seemed to tell herself that I deserved them for not serving her better. The two of them had invented a sick sort of good cop, bad cop routine to use on me, and it had nearly broken me. If I hadn't escaped when I had, I'd probably have killed myself by now.

I took a deep breath, looked Eric dead in the eye for effect, and said, "Sophie Anne was the judge and jury. Andre was the executioner. They worked together to keep me in low spirits almost perpetually. I guess Sophie Anne was so disappointed that I was unwilling and unable to produce instant results that she didn't want anyone else to be happy, either. I don't know what her motivation was, but she definitely knew what was going on. She'd send me away with orders to do this or do that, so I'd go and try to concentrate on my work, but then Andre would come, and force me to…" I paused. I really didn't want to dredge all of this up again. I had to remove my gaze from Eric's face, I couldn't look at him while I said all of this. I settled my eyes on a stapler on the desk and finally continued, "He wanted to be entertained, so he used me for entertainment. This 'entertainment' would take away from my time to work on the Queen's projects, so when she would call me to see what progress I had made, of course I had never gotten as much done as she wanted, so she would send me back to Andre for punishment. It was a never ending cycle of fear and shame and anger. It took me a long time to get over the things they made me do, which I guess is why I was so hesitant to trust you. I still don't completely trust you, maybe I never will, but I will tell you right now that I would rather die than be treated like that again so if you have any ideas about trying to fuck with me like that, you can just go ahead and drain me right now because I can't do it all again, okay? I can't, and I won't." I took a deep breath to stop myself from getting emotional. Just thinking about Andre's angry eyes and cold hands made me want to cry. I took a peek at Eric's face and was somewhat surprised by what I saw.

If Eric had needed to breathe, I felt like he would have been holding his breath the entire time I was talking. As if reading my mind, he let out a long, unnecessary breath and raised his eyebrows at me. I thought I saw some foreign emotion in his eyes… pity? I hadn't thought Eric capable of feeling anything other than lust and superiority. After a moment, he finally spoke, very softly, "Sophie Anne was a moron to let that sort of treatment go on, and I can assure you that I am nothing like Andre. I meant what I said earlier, Francesca. I am a business man, not a dictator. If you perform services for me when I require them, you will be fairly compensated. You need not fear me or anyone else, I will let no harm come to you. I need you to trust me on that much at the very least. Can you do that?"

I nodded, settling my gaze back on the stapler. The resurfacing of all those dark memories of my time in New Orleans coupled with Eric's surprising tenderness made me feel very vulnerable. All I wanted to do was run back to the bedroom, lock the door, curl up in a ball on the bed and cry myself to sleep. I was so wrapped up in trying not to break down that I hadn't even noticed Eric get up and come around the desk to kneel before me on the floor. He reached up to cup my chin gently and turned my face to his.

"Please do not cry. I am sorry for your pain and for making you relive it. I think we have spoken enough for tonight, there is plenty of time to go over the specifics later. Come, let us go find you something to eat." He stroked his thumb gently over my cheek, rubbing away a tear that had escaped my eye. A moment ago I had wanted to be alone in bed, but now I was fighting the urge to climb down into his lap and let him hold me. Would he hold me? No, he would probably dump me off onto the floor, disgusted by my very human emotional display. I again thought back to Andre, how he used my emotions as fuel for his harshest punishments. This memory, however, made me angry instead of sad, and that small sphere of anger was enough to rid my eyes of any tears. I stiffened under Eric's touch and stood up, looking down at him as he still kneeled before me, his hands now down at his sides.

As quickly as the desire to be in his arms had come, it was gone, and all I wanted was for him to leave so I could explore the house in peace. I started to walk away from him, back to the living room, and said over my shoulder, "It's okay, I can figure it out myself. You should probably go back to Fangtasia, I'm sure the peasants miss their king."

Just as I crossed the threshold of the living room, he was there in front of me, arms crossed. He spoke, "It's Monday, Fangtasia is closed. You are the only thing on my agenda tonight." It seemed that tender, pitying Eric was gone and sarcastic, smug Eric was back in his place. It crossed my mind that under different circumstances, I might grow to like the gentle Eric, but right now the cocky one was lightening the mood and I was internally grateful for that.

I rolled my eyes and snorted at him, "I hope you didn't clear your appointment books for the occasion because you've had all of me tonight that you're likely to get." I walked around him and continued through the living room back into the dim foyer, crossing to the kitchen and flipping on the light. The kitchen was sleek and modern, though somewhat small, fitted with flashy stainless steel appliances and dark granite counter tops. The cabinets were black with simple stainless steel pulls and the backsplash was a gorgeous grey and black mosaic pattern, offsetting the light grey walls and white crown molding. The only seating was an island with a few bar stools pulled up to it, with tastefully simple track lighting above it. Eric must have seen me staring at the island because he finally spoke from behind me, causing me to jump a bit.

"There is a formal dining room through that door there if the occasion ever calls for it. What do you think of the kitchen?"

I smiled genuinely at him. "It's perfect, I love it. You have very good taste."

He chuckled and grinned, "I wish I could take credit for all of this, but unfortunately I left most of the decision making up to Pam. After I tracked you to your apartment, which you so politely left unlocked for me, I had her go through it and try to get an idea of the things you like. She'll be pleased to know you are happy with it."

Some of my good humor vanished at the mention of this Pam woman. Did he have a girlfriend? A wife? A vampire life partner that I could never, ever compare to? If that was the case, what the hell was he doing with me in the bedroom earlier? Not that I had any reason to be jealous, we weren't in any kind of relationship. Hell, I didn't even know the guy. I knew vamps didn't view intimacy the same way humans did, and even if he was committed to someone, it was unlikely that either of them were monogamous. Still, the idea that there was someone else in the picture put me in a sour mood. I didn't want him to know that a small, stupid part of me was jealous over the mere mention of another woman, so I simply made what I hoped was an indifferent noise of recognition and went over to the fridge and started poking through it.

As if reading my mind, Eric said from behind me, "Pam is my progeny. I believe you met her at the bar, the short blonde taking IDs at the door?"

I reprimanded myself internally. See? Nothing to be worried about, it's just his kid, not his wife. I also reprimanded myself for even giving a shit to begin with. Stupid, stupid. Nonetheless, relief washed over me.

"Oh, yeah, her. She's your child, huh? Yeah, I can see the resemblance."

He chuckled and I sensed that he had moved over to the island to sit on one of the stools. I had found some delicious looking sliced Colby jack cheese in the fridge and decided to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. I grabbed the cheese and some butter and turned around to face him.

"You know, you really don't have to be here, I'm sure this is boring for you, watching me dick around and eat human food. I promise you I won't try to escape again, I don't even have the means to do so. I think part of the reason I didn't wake up for two days was because the spellcards drain you just as much as actually casting a spell, and translocation is no picnic. We're tied now and I know I can't get away from you, so I won't try. You don't have to babysit me."

He looked amused at my little outburst. He grinned as he said, "You don't enjoy my company?"

"It's not that, but you keep telling me I should trust you. That's fine, I can try to do that, but I need you to trust me too. I understand you don't have much of a reason to after I lied to you and tried to escape once, but I promise it won't happen again. I don't like feeling like you're only here because you have to be to 'protect your investment,'" I made little air quotes with my fingers as I said this, "so I'd rather just be alone than have you hovering because you're scared I might try to run again."

His grin grew even larger and it was apparent he had very selective hearing, because all he said was, "So, what you're saying is that you _do_ enjoy my company?"

"Ugh!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes and turning my back on him to grab a loaf of bread from the breadbox. I bent down to search through the cabinets until I found a pan, brand new with the labels still on it. I turned on the gas range and got everything prepared for my sandwich. Every now and then I'd glance over my shoulder to peek at Eric, who seemed fascinated and amused by my little sandwich-making ritual. I surprised myself with how I fluctuated between wanting him to leave and wanting him to stay, and I had to admit that his quiet company was not entirely unpleasant.

I flipped my sandwich and went searching through the cabinets again until I found a bag of Doritos. Not the healthiest option, but definitely the most delicious. After everything I'd been through, I figured I deserved a little comfort food. I found the plates and grabbed one, dumping a couple handfuls of chips onto it and sliding my grilled cheese next to them. I turned around and set the plate on the island, then rummaged through the fridge again until I found a can of Diet Coke. I ripped a paper towel off the roll and went to sit at my place, noticing immediately that Eric had switched stools so he was right next to me. I rolled my eyes and sat down, popping a couple chips into my mouth and groaning at how good it tasted.

"You sound like you're enjoying yourself," Eric said with a smirk on his face. He had one elbow propped on the counter and was resting his head in his hand, watching me like I was some sort of science project.

"Yeah, I guess I didn't realize how hungry I really was. I suppose not eating for two days will do that, though," I murmured, reaching for my soda and taking a big gulp. The silence was deafening and I was trying to think of something to talk about when I figured Eric was probably just vain enough to enjoy talking about himself first and foremost, so I said, "So, how long have you owned Fangtasia?"

He seemed surprised that I would ask about him. He responded, "Well, it opened just after the Great Revelation, but it had actually been in the works for much longer than that. I toyed with the idea of a human and vampire establishment back when the thought that we could co-mingle was just a pipe dream, but when the movement started picking up steam I had all of the designs drafted and chose a location. When it was finally confirmed that we were going to come out of the coffin, so to speak, I greenlighted the construction of the bar and was able to get it up and running very quickly after we went public. It has been a very lucrative investment."

I nodded, taking a bite of my sandwich and a swig of soda. I was secretly pleased that he was actually having a conversation with me about something other than my blood, magic, or sex. I said, "Yeah, I bet. That was probably a smart decision to open right after the Great Revelation, to sate everyone's curiosity and keep them coming back for more."

"Yes, it turned out to be a very good decision. Fangtasia was the first new vampire-owned establishment to open in Shreveport after we went public, as well as the first bar that catered exclusively to vampires _and _humans." He shot me a small smile as he said this, clearly pleased with himself and his business acumen. I was right after all, he really did enjoy talking about himself.

I asked, "Is Fangtasia the only business you own?"

"It's the only one with a storefront. I own several companies and have numerous investments in others that are even more lucrative than Fangtasia, but of course the bar awards me with certain…" he paused and smirked, "perks, that my other endeavors do not."

I rolled my eyes and snorted, "Oh, right, the endless blood and easy women. Yeah, I doubt you'd find that listed on a benefits package somewhere else."

He laughed loudly at that, his dimples once again appearing on his cheeks and his eyes crinkling. I loved how carefree and "normal" he looked when he laughed, like he was just an average guy here on a date with me rather than an ancient vampire that could kill me with a flick of his wrist.

I looked down at my plate and noticed I had eaten everything without even realizing it. Eric sure was a good distraction. I finished the last few gulps of my Diet Coke and got up to clean everything. I dropped the paper towel into the trash, rinsed my plate and put it in the dishwasher, and rinsed out the Coke can and set it by the sink for recycling. I washed my hands, dried them, and turned around to see Eric still staring at me intently.

"Why do you keep staring at me, you creep? I can't be that enthralling."

"You are very enthralling. I enjoy watching your mundane little routines, it brings me pleasure."

"Huh, well, I guess it's okay then. It's still kinda creepy, though. I feel like I'm under a microscope or something."

"Maybe you are. Maybe I'm writing a very detailed report, and you are the subject."

"Well, if you want my opinion, I don't think you're going to get a very good grade. I'm not very interesting. What could you possibly have to write about?"

"Hmm, well, let me see," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "Well, you smell divine, and you taste delicious, and you are very beautiful. You are intelligent and articulate, you have a stubborn streak but also the common sense to know when to surrender. You are a very intriguing creature, and I must disagree with you that I've chosen my subject in error. In fact, given the time to research you properly, I wager the results will be most satisfactory." He rose up off the counter and crossed his arms across his chest, eyeing me smugly.

I didn't know what to say to the lot of compliments he had just paid me. Was he being sincere or just messing around with me? I could never tell, and I was damned if I was gonna make a fool out of myself by eating out of the fucking palm of his hand. He did know how to make me laugh though, that was for sure. I laughed and rolled my eyes at him and said, "Oh, whatever. Come on." I went around the island and reached for his hand. He rose an eyebrow and stood up to tower over me, setting his hand in mine. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're going to watch a movie. Since this is my house now, in principle at least, we're going to do what I want to do, since you refuse to leave. I feel like watching a movie. Let's go."

He was silent as I led him out of the kitchen and through the foyer into the living room. I plopped down onto the far end of one of the couches so that I could lean against the arm and face the television. I expected Eric to sit on the other couch across from me, but instead he sat down on the other end of the couch I was on, grabbing my legs to lay across his lap. He acted as though this was the most natural gesture in the world and absent-mindedly rubbed his hand up and down my shins as I flipped through the TV guide, trying to find something to watch. Stupid ass satellite TV – hundreds of channels and nothing but crap on all of them.

I finally found The Shawshank Redemption on, almost halfway over, and decided it was just the thing to relax me. I had seen it probably dozens of times, but it always captivated me regardless. Eric must have seen me watching it intently because he said, "You enjoy this film?" I responded, "Duh. It's the best movie ever made."

He snorted, "Oh really? That's a pretty big statement to make." I kicked at his stomach and he laughed. I said, "No, I mean it. It's number one on the IMDB list of the top two hundred and fifty best movies ever made. You've never seen The Shawshank Redemption?"

"No," he admitted, tickling the bottom of my foot, "What's it about?"

My feet were apparently very ticklish. I laughed and kicked at him some more. I said, "Well, it's about a man who goes to prison for killing his wife and her lover, except he didn't really do it. I don't want to ruin it. Just watch."

That seemed to placate him as he focused his attention on the screen, and we sat in comfortable silence watching the movie. Right around the time Andy gets put into solitary confinement, I felt myself starting to get sleepy. I snuggled down further into the plush leather, resting my head back against the armrest, lulled by the soothing movements of Eric's hand on my lower legs. The warmth from the nearby fire was like a security blanket, making me feel safe and protected. After a while I felt Eric slip the remote from my hand and vaguely heard the television turn off. As I succumbed to sleep, I thought I heard Eric say, "Goodnight, Francesca." I yawned and mumbled, "Goodnight, Eric," before finally going under.


	6. Kinda I Want To

When I awoke the next day, I was slightly disoriented as I was expecting to wake up on the couch in the living room. Instead, I found myself tucked into the large, comfortable bed in the same bedroom I had woken up in the night before. It also did not escape my notice that I had been stripped down to the baby pink bra and panties I had put on. Groaning at Eric's ridiculousness, I looked around and noticed my t-shirt and jeans folded neatly on top of the bureau, along with what looked like a note. I got up and shuffled over to it. It was a piece of thick, cream-colored paper, folded in half with my name on top. It was written in an elegant, flowing script. Of course, even Eric's handwriting was sexy. I chuckled to myself and began to read.

_"Francesca,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I regret that we were not able to continue our business discussion last night, but you looked so peaceful that I could not bring myself to wake you. I will return tonight so that we can go over our arrangement further. I look forward to seeing you again. You truly are a vision._

_Eric"_

I rolled my eyes and kicked myself internally when I realized I was clutching the note to my chest like some kind of lovesick preteen. Okay, so he was coming back tonight. Last night had actually gone really well, was it too much to ask that tonight might be a repeat? I sighed and folded the letter back up, setting it back down where I found it. I put on the same clothes I had worn the previous night, figuring they couldn't be too dirty since all I'd done was eat and go to sleep again. I dug through my bag and found a clip, swirling my thick hair up into a pile and clamping it to the crown of my head. I noticed my fuzzy clutch in my bag as well and snatched it up. I hadn't gotten a chance to go through it last night, and Lord only knows what sort of liberties Eric had taken in prying through my things.

Of course, I noted the absence of my spellcards, just as Eric had said. I stuck out my bottom lip and pouted when I thought about how much work it was to make those damn things. I also saw that my cell phone was gone, but all my money, credit cards, and my fake ID were there. I wondered idly if Pam and Eric had talked enough about me to deduce that I had used the bogus ID to get into the bar that night. Somehow I guessed that Eric already knew and that if he was really perturbed by it he would have mentioned it. I sighed and shut the clutch, shoving it back into my bag and tossing it onto the bed.

I was going to go use the bathroom when I heard a faint knocking sound. "Oh, for fuck's sakes," I thought to myself. Was there someone at the door? Who the fuck would be here during the day? I knew Eric wasn't stupid enough to stash me carelessly where someone would be able to find me. I gulped and made my way to the doorway of the bedroom, the small hallway outside now illuminated slightly from the sunlight streaming through the bedroom windows. I saw a few closed doors that I hadn't noticed before and made a mental note to explore later. I tiptoed down the hall to the closed door that I knew separated the hallway from the foyer and put my ear to it. After a few seconds, there was another series of gentle yet firm knocks at the front door. Yep, someone was definitely out there, and that someone definitely knew I was inside. I gulped and tried to steel my nerves as I slowly turned the door handle and peeked around it into the foyer.

Through the stained glass windows of the front door I could make out a vague masculine figure. Not too terribly tall, maybe around six feet, but very solid and muscular looking, with short dark hair. I went to ask who was there but the only thing that escaped my mouth was a squeak. Oh my god, Frankie, get a grip! I cleared my throat and tried again. "Who's there?" I yelled, still stuck in the doorway to the hall, not daring to venture any closer to the front door.

"Hey, is this Frankie?" said a gruff voice. He didn't sound very threatening, just slightly annoyed that I hadn't come to the door yet. It appeared to be someone who knew me well enough to know I hated being called Francesca. That was either a good thing or an awful, scary thing. Only one way to find out.

"Maybe. Who's asking?" I shouted, inching out of the doorway into the foyer.

"My name is Ryan McGraw. I was hired by Mr. Northman to watch over you during the day. Think there's any way you could come to the door and let me in so we can stop yelling at each other? This shouting match probably isn't the best idea if you're trying to keep a low profile."

"Alright, I'm coming, but stand back from the door. Don't try anything or I'll stab you. I have a knife, " I lied, hoping I sounded believable. Something told me I didn't when I heard him chuckle softly through the thick oak of the front door.

"Yeah, yeah, alright. I'm standing back. Come on, Mr. Northman said I have to show you the ropes around here before sunset."

I padded softly to the front door and took a deep breath before throwing the deadbolt and pulling it open a crack. I stayed behind the door so all he could see was a sliver of my face. Staring back at me was a good looking kid, probably about twenty one, with stylish close-cropped brown hair, brown eyes, and a fashionable amount of stubble. He wasn't overly muscular like Eric, but he was strong-looking in a way that said he had spent years doing manual labor of some kind. He must have noticed me drinking him in because he flashed me a vicious looking smile that would have made me jump if it wasn't so offset by the warmth and good humor in his eyes.

"Well, here I am, ya gonna let me in or are we gonna stare at each other all day?" he prodded, shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest good-naturedly.

"You a Were?" I asked. Based on my dealings with Sophie Anne I knew the chances of him being human were slim. Humans were good for menial tasks like office work and housekeeping, but if you needed your life guarded while you were dead for the day, Weres were the standard.

He chuckled and replied, "Yup, born and bred. Mr. Northman said you were awfully perceptive. What's the deal, do I gotta shift before you'll let me in so I can do my job?" He made a move to pull his shirt over his head when I opened the door a bit wider and said, "No! No. It's fine, I believe you, I've just been through a lot of crap lately. Sorry. Come in." I moved aside to let him through and shut and deadbolted the door behind him.

"Paranoid much?" he joked, "Don't worry, the grounds are secure. Including myself, there are five guards patrolling the five acres of land surrounding this property. We –" I cut him off and said, "Come on, let's go into the kitchen and talk. You want somethin' to drink?" I walked over to the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. I went around the island and started poking around in the fridge, "I've got milk, water, Diet Coke?" I looked up and saw that he was perched on one of the stools. He said, "Sure, I'll take a Coke. Thanks." I grabbed one, slid it over to him, and grabbed another for myself, choosing to lean on the island across from him rather than sitting down so we could talk decently.

"So, anyway," he began, opening the can and taking a swig, "like I was saying, there are five of us here. We have strict orders not to bother you unnecessarily, but if there's anything you need, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask us." He fished in the pocket of his jeans for a moment, then pulled out a folded piece of paper and slid it to me. "All the names and phone numbers of the guards are on there, so you should be able to reach any of us at any time. That's just for the day staff, though. When the night staff comes on, someone will come to meet you and give you a similar list with the night guards' contact info. Anyway, there'll be two guards down the lane at the gatehouse, one patrolling the vicinity of the house, and the other two are stationed at other posts on the property. Even if you don't ever see any of us, we're here. In fact, that just means we're doing our job. Mr. Northman wants us to be as inconspicuous yet as effective as possible. Sound okay so far?" He took another swig of his Coke and gave me a minute to process the information.

I thought about how different this sounded from the Fort Knox-like situation back at the Palace. Of course, Sophie Anne had no reason to be inconspicuous, and had me followed by three guards all day and all night. I knew they reported my every cough and hiccup back to her and most of the time I felt like a dog on a leash. This arrangement with Eric and the were guards, however, made me feel more like Rapunzel in a gilded tower. Well, if this was how it had to be, I guess I didn't have a choice in the matter. Plus, I figured I'd rather be a princess than a Pomeranian anyway.

"Yeah, sure," I finally replied, drawing designs on the side of my soda can with my finger. "Am I allowed to leave the house?"

"You can go wherever you'd like, but you mustn't leave the grounds without an escort, which during the day will usually be me. I'll try not to cramp your style too hard," he joked, flashing me his wolfy grin again.

I grinned back at him and nodded my assent. "Alright, I guess as long as you're chill, it'll be fine. Was there anything else or is that it? I haven't really gotten a chance to explore the house at all."

"No, I think that's it, for now. Mr. Northman will go over everything else later. I'm on house patrol today so if you need anything, just give a shout and I'll come running. Mr. Northman mentioned that you didn't have a cell phone yet so you wouldn't be able to call."

"Yeah, that's the funny thing, I _did_ have a cell phone, but God only knows what swamp that asshole pitched it into," I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck in annoyance as I walked back into the foyer and toward the front door.

Ryan chuckled from behind me as he followed me to the door. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans, which I noted fit him _very _nicely, and said, "Yeah, that sounds like something he'd do. Well, Frankie, it's been a pleasure. I'll see you around, maybe."

I gave him a warm smile. I kinda liked this kid. I opened the door and as he stepped out I called after him, "Yeah, you too, Ryan. See ya." He rounded the corner of the house and I shut the door, making sure to latch the deadbolt. I immediately went back into the kitchen to clean up our empty cans. I went through all the cabinets and tried to commit their contents to memory. I was pretty sure that Pam had purchased five of everything they had at the Piggly Wiggly. I smiled internally at the obvious amount of thought that had been put into preparing this house for me. What vampire other than Eric would have even considered that humans need to eat?

I closed the last cabinet and decided to check out what was behind those closed doors in the hallway. I made my way to the doorway across from the bedroom and found a small but nicely furnished spare bedroom that had a plush white leather armchair, some sort of blonde wood bureau, and a cozy looking daybed with a yellow comforter and white pillows propped all over it. The walls were a pale lemon color and the gauzy curtains covering the window were white lace. The dainty, feminine décor of the room contrasted sharply with the darker, more modern vibe of the rest of the house. I pondered over this for a moment before shutting the door and moving on to the next room, which turned out to be a small laundry room holding a very intense, high-tech looking washer and dryer. Cool. I shut the door again and moved on to the next door, which was a bathroom. It was done up in earthy browns, beiges, and taupes, with a combination bath and shower. Not nearly as glamorous as the master bath, but still very tasteful and appropriate. I left this door propped open slightly, it felt weird to me to close the bathroom door when it wasn't occupied. I moved on to the fourth and final unexplored room and was shocked with what I found behind it.

It was obviously a work room of sorts, but not the kind you'd expect to find. There wasn't a sewing machine or boxes of half-used craft supplies lying around. Instead, there were dozens of empty vials, beakers, and jars lined up on shelves, waiting to be filled with herbs and reagents for my spells. There was a beautiful table up against one wall with an expensive-looking butcher's block top, and a cozy hard-backed chair was pushed up to it. Atop the table sat a mortar and pestle and an electronic scale, along with a basket full of glass stirring rods, eyedroppers, tweezers, and measuring scoops. I let out an amused snort. What the fuck did he think I was doing in here, cooking meth? I noticed a small wooden bookshelf sitting to the side of the table and saw that Eric had unpacked my spellbooks. Part of me found it very endearing that he had gone through all the trouble of setting this up for me, but I still couldn't stop myself from shuddering at the thought of getting caught back up in all this shit again.

I backed out of the room and shut the door gently behind me, leaning against it for a moment with my eyes closed. I took a couple of cleansing breaths and made my way to the living room, plopping down on the couch and flipping through the channels for something mindless to watch while I brooded about my predicament. I noticed on the clock on the TV that it was about two in the afternoon, which gave me plenty of time to lie around and do nothing before I had to eat and shower. I was grateful that the fancy TV had an alarm on it since I had no cell phone and didn't want to risk oversleeping if I happened to doze off. I set the alarm for five o'clock, which would give me a good amount of time to get my shit together before Eric arrived.

After what seemed like forever, I finally found a marathon of Law & Order. The regular kind, not Criminal Intent or SVU. The original had always been my favorite because McCoy was just such a badass. I watched one full episode and started on the second when I felt myself starting to get drowsy. I leaned my head back into the soft leather and let sleep take me. I slept very lightly, drifting in and out of consciousness to occasionally look around and make sure there wasn't anyone creeping around trying to kill me. It was definitely gonna take some getting used to, living by myself in this quiet house on such a big piece of property.

I must have dozed off again because I was startled awake by a melodic beeping sound – the alarm on the TV. I scrambled to find the remote that had ended up wedged between the couch cushions, turning the damn annoying thing off and rolling my neck to get the kinks out. I left the television on and turned on lights in the rapidly darkening house on my way to the kitchen to fix myself some dinner. I found some bacon at the back of the fridge and decided I was hungry for BLTs. I got out a heavy cast iron skillet and set it to heat, dropping some bacon in when it was good and hot. I sliced a tomato and found some lettuce and set to toasting the bread. I found a container of deli potato salad and started picking at it while I waited for the bacon to cook. It wasn't quite as good as homemade, but it was still pretty decent. When I was finally ready to assemble my sandwich, I set it gently on a plate and added a couple dollops of the salad. I took a nice glass tumbler down from the cabinet and poured myself a tall glass of milk, then went to the island and slowly ate.

The silence was deafening. The only sounds were the crunch of the lettuce as I chewed and the faint mumbling from the TV in the other room. I got up and went over to the window and opened it a bit, relieved when I could hear the faint woosh of wind through the trees and tall prairie grasses surrounding the house, along with the chirping of crickets. I had always fancied myself a city slicker, but there was no denying how comforting the sounds of the countryside could be. I went back over to the island and finished my dinner with a smile on my face as I basked in the soothing cacophony of the evening.

I rinsed my plate and glass and put them in the dishwasher, put away the bread and fixings from my sandwich, and left the bacon grease to solidify in the pan. I could definitely see some eggs cooked in bacon grease in my future. I could also feel my arteries hardening at the prospect, but who gives a shit? We all gotta croak sometime. My motto was: live fast, die young, and leave a bloated corpse.

After the kitchen was clean, I decided to leave the light above the range on and went back to the bedroom – my bedroom, how strange is that? – and picked out some clothes from my bag to wear. I was definitely gonna have to talk to Eric about my clothing situation. I had only grabbed a few outfits to shove into my bag the night I left, and I actually had a full wardrobe of clothes back at my old apartment that I hadn't been able to do anything with. I wondered if he had Pam grab them, or if I was just S.O.L. In any case, I wasn't cool with wearing the same three pairs of clothes over and over again. I found one of my favorite pieces of clothing, a black and red plaid romper with spaghetti straps that came down to my mid-thigh, and paired it with a strapless, lacy black bra and boy shorts. I set my outfit out on the bed and went to the bathroom to christen my claw foot tub.

As I got the water running, I grabbed a bottle of blackberry pomegranate bubble bath from a basket above the toilet and poured some in. I grabbed one of the emerald green towels and set it nearby, then stripped my clothes off and folded them into a pile on top of the toilet lid. Once the bath was full, I slowly slipped in, cursing the scalding heat but loving it at the same time. I leaned my head back over the rim of the tub, careful not to wet my hair, and closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift.

For some reason, I thought of my childhood, of secretly helping my memaw pick herbs to dry for her spells. We had to gloss over the truth and tell my mom we were picking wildflowers; she never approved of my involvement in magic at such a young age. I thought of how sad I had been when my memaw wouldn't wake up one morning, and how a stupid, naïve part of me had thought that just because she was a powerful witch, she would find a way to live forever. Maybe that's why I was so drawn to vampires. The loss of my beloved memaw, the one person who had understood me and nurtured my unique needs, rather than running scared or making me feel ashamed of my affinity for magic, had made it very hard for me to trust and open up to people. I was constantly scared that if I gave a piece of my heart and soul to someone, they would find a way to leave me and take the pieces with them. If I let that happen with too many people, pretty soon there wouldn't be anything left of me. It was a lot easier to just keep all the pieces to myself so I wouldn't be disappointed.

I hadn't even noticed that I had been crying until I reached up to rub my eye and felt wetness. I cursed myself for being such a baby. It had been over ten years since she had passed and I rarely allowed myself to think about her in a negative way. I scowled and slapped at the now tepid water angrily, sloshing some over the sides. I reached down to pull out the drain stopper and slowly stood up, grabbing the towel and drying off. Normally I was a pretty organized person and always put things where they belonged, but in that instant I had decided to embrace my foul mood. I flung the soaked towel onto the tile floor and stalked into the bedroom naked, noticing that the sun had set while I was in the tub feeling sorry for myself. I planned to get dressed and wait on the porch for Eric to arrive, counting on the cool breeze and ambient rural noises to soothe my mind.

What I wasn't counting on was Eric's obvious lack of boundaries. I had taken about three steps into the room when I jumped no less than ten feet into the air at the sight of him perched casually on the corner of my bed, arms folded over his chest and a lopsided smirk on his face. Luckily for me, my time around vampires had stripped me of most of my modesty when it came to things nudity and sex-related, so I was fully able to focus my energy on screaming at him like a banshee. Not out of embarrassment, but out of rage at his audacity. Seriously, who the fuck just waltzes into not only your house, but into your damn bedroom!? I quickly covered my breasts with an arm and my lower area with my hand, then I let him have it.

"Dude, what the fuck!" I screamed, "You couldn't knock or some shit?"

His smirk quivered. I could tell he was trying not to let it turn into a full-blown smile. "But if I had knocked, I'd have missed out on quite a show, hmm?" He was leering at me now, not even trying to disguise his approval at my naked form. I could feel his eyes scanning me from top to bottom and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make my insides feel a little bit like Jell-O.

"Oh please. After last night I think we're past that point now, don't you?" I asked, rolling my eyes at him, "If you're trying to embarrass me or make me nervous, it ain't gonna work. Besides, if you're my boss and I'm an employee, doesn't this count as sexual harassment? I'm gonna check on that and get back to you because I'd fuckin' love to sue your ass right now."

"Oh really? Would you like to know all of the things I'd love to do to _your_ ass right now?" he drawled, eliciting an exasperated scoff from me. Alright, I suppose I had set myself up for that one. He dropped his hands to the mattress and looked at me hungrily. I could tell we were quickly crossing the line from good-natured flirting to something more dangerous. I had a choice to make: have sex with the guy, or do everything in my power to let him know it wasn't gonna happen. Shit, even if I told him it wasn't gonna happen, he'd probably find a way to convince me otherwise.

I cleared my throat and croaked, "No, I wouldn't. What I'd like is for you to go wait for me in the office while I get dressed."

He stood up slowly and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief that he was leaving, but instead of making his way for the door, he took a couple of large, human-speed steps toward me. There was only maybe eight feet between us now, and you could have cut the sexual tension with a knife.

He spoke, "Are you sure that's what you want, Francesca? I can smell your arousal, you know. I think you want something else, and I think you want me to be the one to give it to you."

I sucked in a breath as he took a few more leisurely steps toward me, closing the gap to such a short distance that he was able to reach out one of his long arms and tuck a piece of hair that had fallen from my bun behind my ear. "May I?" he asked. I didn't get his meaning at first, but when he moved his hand behind my head and touched the clip, I understood and timidly nodded my assent. With a deft flick, he snatched the clip from my hair and threw it onto the top of the bureau where it landed with a click. I gently shook my hair out and let it cascade down over my chest in shiny ripples. When I realized it was long enough to cover my breasts, I moved my arm down to my side and shivered at the light tickling of my hair over my taut nipples.

Eric was gazing intently at my body, raking his eyes up and down, randomly settling for a moment on the hand that was cupping my lady bits, or my barely veiled breasts, or my shiny black hair, but always returning to hold my gaze. We stood there staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only two minutes. I could feel my resolve slipping with every passing second and finally decided enough was enough when he went to take the final step that would close the gap between us completely.

"Eric, this isn't a good idea," I panted, slapping myself internally when my voice quavered. What a damn mess I was. How could I expect him to agree with me that we should stop when I couldn't even commit 100% of myself to the thought?

He stayed where he was, but I saw his eyes flash with longing and annoyance. His voice was husky and dangerous when he replied, "What's not a good idea, exactly?"

Ugh! The bastard wanted to hear me say it. "This. Us. Having sex. Whatever is about to happen here with you inching closer to me like a lion stalking a gazelle."

Despite my warnings, he took one final step and was now standing directly on top of me, so close I could feel the slight chill emanating from his dead flesh and smell his cologne – crisp and clean and effortlessly masculine, just like him. I was about to speak again, maybe make a joke to break the ice or something, I hadn't really planned anything out, when he stopped me by cupping my jaw and running his thumb over my lips. He applied a slight downward pressure to my bottom lip, causing my mouth to open slightly, and the damn stupid sex-starved part of me actually darted out my tongue to lick at his finger.

He responded by moving even closer to me, pressing my naked body into the wall, melding his muscular form to my petite one. His other hand had moved to my side, gripping it tightly and massaging down to my hip to grind my pelvis against the straining bulge in his black jeans. The feel of the stiff denim against my bare skin sent fissures of pleasure through my body, and a small moan escaped my lips as he lowered his head to my collarbone and planted languid, wet, open-mouthed kisses on my goosebumped flesh. He worked his way up the side of my neck and pointed his tongue to lick a trail along my jawbone from my ear to my chin, then up my chin to my lips, still propped open with his thumb.

I didn't have the willpower to deny him entry when he moved to kiss me deeply. I wanted to fight him, I really did, but the gentle restraint he was exercising, especially when I knew the animal stirring beneath the surface wanted nothing more than to bend me over the bed and fuck me until I couldn't walk, was surprising and refreshing. I returned his slow, velvety kisses and matched his leisurely pace, exploring his mouth with my tongue and grazing the tip against his fangs when I felt them pop down. My hands, which until now had been planted firmly at my sides, moved to tangle themselves in his long hair, smoothing the golden tresses back from his face and massaging his scalp gently. There was something so serene and innocent about the whole thing that if I would have had to die in that moment, I would have been buried with a smile on my face.

Eric's hand eventually found its way from my hip up to my chest, tickling the skin of my stomach with his short fingernails as he went, kneading my breast gently, flicking my nipple with his thumb. After what seemed like an eternity, he broke our relaxed kisses to lick a trail back down to my breast. He kissed the globe in a spiral motion, getting closer and closer to the rock hard peak in the center that was practically screaming for his attentions. He looked up to my face and made eye contact with me in that moment, drinking in my expression and clearly enjoying the euphoria spelled out on my features as he shot me a small smile and winked, and just as he went to close his mouth around my nipple, a melodic beeping sound brought me out of my reverie.

"E…Eric… your phone…" I panted, gulping hard and watching his face that had frozen in mid-air. He looked up and met my gaze, and growled, literally growled, low and menacing in his throat.

"It could be something important. You better check it," I simpered, using the increasing loudness of the ringtone to back up my argument. Somehow the chirping of the device had hacked through my clouded judgment like a machete, and all I could think about now was getting dressed and putting as much distance between me and Undead Don Juan as possible. With every nanosecond that passed, I felt myself getting angrier and angrier at my lack of willpower.

Eric seemed to sense that the moment was over as he instantly removed his hands from me and straightened up with a sigh, fishing in his pocket for his phone. He leveled me with a piercing gaze and said in a frustrated tone, "We _will_ continue this later." He pushed a button on his phone and stalked out of the room, muttering angrily in some foreign language to whoever was on the other end. As soon as he was gone, I bounded over to the bed and flopped down onto it, landing on my belly and burying my face in the comforter. Oh my God! If that crap was gonna happen every time Eric came over, maybe I should ask him to keep his distance. Not that I didn't enjoy his company, but getting involved with him outside of business just seemed like a bad idea.

After giving myself some time to cool down, I straightened myself up and pulled on the lacy black bra and panties I had picked out earlier, along with my favorite plaid romper. I trotted over to the bathroom and ripped my brush through my hair, throwing it over my shoulder in relaxed waves. I couldn't think of anything else to waste time with and I knew Eric was likely in a bad mood due to our interruption so I hastily made my way down the hall and into the office where Eric was pacing back and forth, apparently still on the phone with my unwitting savior.

Eric turned around to face me when he heard me approach and stopped dead (ha, it's funny 'cause he's already dead, right?) in his tracks. With the way he was leering at me, I might have wagered that he liked me in the romper even better than he had liked me naked. I blushed and whispered, "Want me to go wait for you?" I still hadn't been able to ascertain who was on the phone, and they were still jabbering back and forth in that weird language, so I didn't want to interrupt a potentially life-or-death call, or seem like I was prying. He stood still and stared at me for a beat longer before nodding his head and dismissing me with a literal flick of his wrist. I scoffed at the gesture and marched away, deciding to go with my original plan of clearing my head and waiting for him on the porch. Only now, I had my rustled jimmies to contend with too, instead of just the memory of my dead memaw. Hopefully working for Eric came with a stellar health insurance program, 'cause I could already feel my blood pressure rising and I hadn't even had to deal with the guy for more than a couple hours at a time. Jesus help me.

Once I undid the deadbolt on the front door and stepped out into the cool, clean air, I realized this was the first time I had actually left the house. Since it was dark, I didn't want to venture too far, but I did notice that it was nicely landscaped, with an empty garden plot off to one side and a birdbath surrounded by wildflowers on the other. On the porch were a couple of white wicker rocking chairs separated by a matching table. I plopped down into one of the chairs, rocking it back so hard that it smacked against the side of the house. Oops. I scooted the chair closer to the railing and propped my feet up on it, then I scrunched down into the chair, sitting more or less in the fetal position with my arms across my knees and my face turned up to the sky. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the eerie calmness of the countryside. I made a mental note to ask Eric exactly where we were. I figured we must be close to Shreveport, since he was able to make it here so quickly after dark, but we were at least far enough away that all of the ambient light from the city couldn't reach. When I opened my eyes again I was awed by how beautiful the sky was out here, illuminated by the light of the moon and the billions of stars like pin pricks in a sheet of black construction paper.

I heard movement over my right shoulder and looked to see Eric coming out of the house, finally off the phone. I wasn't sure what kind of mood he was in, so I tried to lighten the mood with a small smile. "Hey," I said, "Everything okay?"

He regarded me silently for a moment before nodding and moving deftly behind my chair to sit down in the other rocker next to me. I turned slightly in my chair so I could look at him better and said, "You sure? It doesn't look like it. You can tell me if you want, or you don't have to, but if you do I won't tell anyone. Not like I've got anyone to blab to anyway, since I'm just here by myself all day."

"You didn't have any visitors today?" he said quietly, with a hint of amusement in his voice, though his face was still a mask of apathy.

"Well yeah, I did, but Ryan's my guard so that doesn't count. We're not friends or anything. Well, not yet, I guess."

He furrowed his brow at that. "He's not paid to be your friend, he's paid to protect you. You'd both do well to remember that."

I snorted, "Well shit, can I at least get a cat to keep me company or something? I _am _a witch, after all, I would benefit from having a familiar."

"You require a cat? I will see to it at once. I did not realize cat-"

I cut him off with a poorly restrained giggle. He looked and sounded very serious, as well as a bit perturbed with himself that he had neglected to provide me with something I apparently needed desperately. As much as I wanted to keep going on with the joke, I couldn't stand the pouty look on his face.

"No! I'm just kidding. Jeez. Look, all I'm saying is, if you're gonna make me stay here, can I at least invite some friends over or something once in a while? It's so bor-"

Now it was his turn to cut me off, with a stern shake of his head. "No. Absolutely not. Your whereabouts are strictly confidential. I'm sure you've noticed your cell phone missing, I couldn't have you communicating with anyone that might jeopardize your location."

"Yeah, I noticed all right. Thanks, dick," I scoffed, standing up from my chair abruptly and walking down the steps onto the lawn. He was annoying the hell out of me and I needed to put some distance between us before I flipped my lid and did something stupid.

"Where are you going?" he said from behind me. "Nowhere," I replied, "Just down here. Onto the grass." He didn't answer me as I lay down on my back on the plush grass, relishing the cool dewiness of it on my skin. I crossed my arms behind my head and looked at the stars while I asked, "How did you get here so quickly after dark tonight?" I didn't have to raise my voice at all even though he was still sitting up on the porch; I knew he could hear me. Part of me also knew that he was gazing at me intently through the railing.

"I flew," he said nonchalantly, as simply as one might say they rode a bike or drove a car.

"You can fly? Wow. So that's your special vampy power thing, huh? Cliff was really fast, faster than some vamps three times his age. He used to carry me on his back sometimes while he ran as fast as he could. It was great. _He_ was great." I stopped myself from gushing on and on about Cliff. What was it with me and my sad, shitty memories tonight? I couldn't think of anything else to say so I let the silence hang until Eric finally replied, "You're upset."

"How do you know?"

"The blood tie. I can feel you now, just as I felt you earlier this evening. You were upset then, too. I felt your distress, that's why I came when I did. What caused you to be in pain?"

"Nothing," I lied, not wanting to rehash it again, especially for Eric. I was well acquainted with how vampires looked down upon human emotions, especially fear and sadness, which equated to weakness in their eyes.

"You're lying. I don't even need the blood tie to know that," he said flatly. Wow, nothing gets past this guy, huh.

"Maybe," I retorted, hoping that he would drop the subject if I played coy for long enough. I was sure any feigned interest he had in my feelings was purely for my benefit. Given the opportunity to move onto more interesting things, he would capitalize on it immediately. The momentary silence that followed assured me I was right since he didn't press the issue. It didn't surprise me at all, but it did serve to further annoy me. I was just in one of those moods where nothing he could do or say would put him in my good graces, ya know?

"So, what business do we need to go over tonight, Master Eric?" I said sarcastically, "Have you established a curfew for me or maybe come to tell me you had me microchipped while I slept?"

I heard Eric snort from his perch on the wicker chair. "You are an amusing creature, Francesca. Only minutes ago were you willing to yield to me fully and now you are upset with me for some reason when all I have done tonight is go out of my way to respond to your distress and ensure your wellness. What a fickle mistress you are."

I propped myself up on my elbows and cocked an eyebrow at him. "You didn't come here just to see if I was okay, you lying ass. You came here because we have work stuff to go over."

He smirked. "So I decided to mix business with pleasure. You would fault me for my superior time management skills?" I rolled my eyes. This man was impossible.

"Right. Whatever. We should go inside and get to work, I'm sure there's some anorexic blonde skeezing her way around Fangtasia waiting for you to get back and use her as a human Capri Sun."

"A what?"

"Nevermind. Let's just go in and get this over with," I sighed, pushing myself up to my feet and dusting grass off my clothes. Eric was already up and waiting for me at the door, holding it open so I could enter first. I led the way in to the office and sat down at one of the armchairs facing the desk, while Eric went behind to sit at the big important boss chair since he's such a big important cool guy. Ugh. I stuck my tongue out at him in my mind. I was so past the point of caring tonight, it didn't matter to me in the least that I was acting like a toddler.

He reached into the inside breast pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a folded packet of papers. "All the papers you need to sign are right here. There are documents authorizing your new credit cards, both personal and business. The company one is to be used for any expenses you incur while working on assignments for me, anything from supplies to travel or lodging, though I don't anticipate much of the latter. Of course your personal account is for whatever you want it to be for, and your pay will be directly deposited into it every Friday morning. I have also drawn up a contract for a salary of $75,000 for the first year, with the opportunity for an increase based on your performance every year thereafter. I have arranged for health insurance along with a vision and dental package, as well as the use of a vehicle, though you must be accompanied at all times if you choose to leave the grounds, as I'm sure Ryan explained to you." He paused and I nodded, not able to form any words. Seventy-five grand a year? For shit that I had been doing for the Queen for nothing? A business credit card? A car? There had to be a fucking catch somewhere, ain't nothing in this life comes for free. I kept my mouth shut and motioned for him to continue.

"For security purposes, you will also be receiving a new identity. Around those you can trust you will still be Francesca. Your guards are loyal to me with their lives so I do not fear for your safety with them around, but I do not trust any other people you might come into contact with. Your real name is likely blacklisted in the supe community thanks to the Queen, and I can't risk anyone making the connection to who you really are. From now on, you will be Alice Reeves. I have an ID, passport, birth certificate, and social security card here for you. Your credit cards and bank accounts are also in this name. Is this agreeable to you?" I found it funny that he was even bothering to ask me. We both knew he would have the final say in absolutely everything we discussed here tonight. Maybe he was trying to make me feel good by pretending to include me in the decision making process.

"Yeah, whatever. So the money and the car and the cool new name, that's all great and stuff, but what exactly do you expect of me in return for all of this? So far you've just been throwing around a bunch of glittery words. When's the shit come in?"

He chuckled. "Oh, Francesca. So pragmatic. Very well, I will indulge you. As I have stated, I expect you to do whatever I ask of you, when I ask it. Many of your duties will be similar to the things you did for Sophie Anne, though I hope you'll find me to be a much more agreeable taskmaster than she. I have a long list of properties that I want you to ward, to start. Also, as Sherriff of this area, I am often called in to investigate suspicious deaths or disappearances in our community. If this should occur, I will require you to perform an ectoplasmic reconstruction at the scene. You will also have to make potions or cast random spells from time to time as the need arises. I may also request your presence at Fangtasia for some work there, but that won't be for a while. I will give you time to get settled in to your new routine and surroundings first."

"Thanks. I appreciate that," I said sincerely, "I've gotta be honest with you, though. All this stuff you're asking me to do, it's not worth as much money as you're offering me. Sophie Anne made me do all that crap, and more, for free. What's your angle?"

He regarded me intently for a moment before speaking. "About the only thing Sophie Anne and I have in common is the fact that we're both vampires. If I may speak frankly, which I suspect isn't a problem for you, Sophie Anne is an inept businesswoman and an even worse monarch. She tries to rule her subjects through intimidation and fear but lacks the zeal to be truly effective. In my many years on this Earth I have recognized that it is easier to forge alliances, especially with humans, on the basis of mutual respect rather than through forced submission. Sophie Anne was a fool for taking you for granted, and a bitch for making you doubt yourself. I will not repeat her mistakes by underestimating you or your power. My offer to compensate you for your work is simply what any decent boss would do. I do not wish to make you heel like some sort of house pet, Francesca. If you are good to me, I think you will find that I will more than repay the favor in kind. Are you willing to do these things that I have asked of you?"

I gulped. Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that. I said, "Yes, but I have one condition."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Go on."

"I'm not doing any of that crazy necromancy shit that Sophie Anne wanted. I'm not raising anyone from the dead, I'm not finding bodies for any wandering souls, and I'm not gonna control any vampires. No un-ethical bullshit. I flat out refuse."

"Of course not. I will never ask you to do any of these things, you have my word. I can have it written into the contract if you so desire."

I was shocked by his acceptance. "No, that's not necessary. I trust you. So… when do I start?"

"You won't have a set schedule of any kind but I will require you to be on call from sunset to sunrise Tuesday through Saturday. I anticipate that much of your time will be spent here in the workroom I prepared for you. Did you find it?" I nodded. He continued, "The days are yours to do with what you wish. All I ask is that you keep your cell phone with you at all times and answer it promptly." I raised an eyebrow as if to ask "what cell phone?" when he opened one of the desk drawers and pulled out a small white bag which he slid across the desk to me. In it was the newest iPhone model along with a wall charger, car charger, screen protectors, and a black and purple (of course) OtterBox case. I grabbed the phone and started to mess with it, noting that there were already several numbers programmed into it – Eric, Pam, Ryan, Bobby, and Charles.

"Who are Bobby and Charles?" I asked, now navigating my phone to the App Store to buy all kinds of fancy stuff. In a way I was thankful Eric had chucked my worn out old flip phone into a swamp; this thing was awesome.

"Bobby is my dayman. He carries out any business that I cannot while the sun is up. In the way that Ryan is the head of the Were daytime security, Charles is in charge of the vampire guards at night." I chuckled at my mental picture of an undead Scott Baio skulking around the perimeter of the house in cargo pants and combat boots. Eric obviously didn't get the reference because he shook his head at me and continued, "I will summon him when we are done here so that you two may become acquainted."

"K," I mumbled, entranced by all the fun things I had found to do with my phone. I hadn't looked at Eric at all since he had slid the damn thing over to me. He cleared his throat and forced me to pry my eyes away from the glowing screen. "What?" I asked.

"Would you please put that thing down for five minutes and sign these forms?"

I sighed and set my phone, AKA my baby, down on the desk and inched forward in my chair to grab a pen. I jotted my name on form after form, signing some of them Francesca Davies, some of them Alice Reeves. I took all the legal documents procured in my new name and stacked them neatly under my phone, then said, "So, do I get to meet Charles now or what?"

As if on cue, there was a curt knock at the front door. Eric said simply, "Enter." I raised my eyebrow at him and he lifted his hand out of his lap to show me his phone, which he had apparently been using to text Charles as I had been engrossed with Candy Crush Saga.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me, and turned to see a very handsome young vampire standing in the doorway. Young as in, he had been young when he was turned, not young in vamp years. I doubted Eric would send a fledgling to guard me. The vamp was probably about 6'1" with a slim build, shaggy light brown hair that was pushed back from his forehead and fell to his collar, and piercing blue eyes – not sapphire blue like Eric's, but a brighter, more aquamarine blue. I saw him look past me to Eric who must have given him the signal to introduce himself, because he came forward to stand before me and smiled down at me.

"Hello, Ms. Davies. I'm Charles Smith, and I'll be in charge of keeping you safe at night. If there is anything that I or my security team can do to assist you in any way, please do not hesitate to inform me. I believe Mr. Northman has provided you with a number to reach me at." He had a faint but pleasant British accent. I enjoyed listening to him speak very much. So much so, in fact, that I waited too long to respond to him and heard Eric clear his throat from behind me.

I nodded and smiled nervously back at him. I said, "Yes, he has. It's a pleasure to meet you, but I have to insist that you call me Frankie. Everyone does."

He grinned and was about to respond when he looked over my shoulder and nodded. The smile disappeared from his face and he responded flatly, "Ms. Davies, the pleasure has been all mine. Again, we are at your service if you need anything. Have a pleasant evening." Before I could say anything, he had sped out of the house in a vampire blur and the only sign that he had gone was the faint click of the front door.

My mouth was agape as I spun around to face Eric, who was innocently looking down at his phone, quickly clicking out a text message to someone.

"What the hell was that about!?" I shouted.

Without looking up from his phone he said, "What was what about?"

"What'd you do to make him leave so fast? I didn't even get a chance to talk to him."

"I simply reminded him that he is on my dime and that I am not paying him to stand around and fraternize."

"Wow, you're a piece of work, you know that? That was really rude."

He finally looked up from his phone and smirked at me. "You wound me," he drawled, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" I asked, annoyed with him all over again.

"Actually, yes," he said, standing up from the chair and coming around to stand next to me, extending his hand to help me up. I grudgingly took it and let him lead me back out to the porch. I went to remove my hand from his but he gripped it tightly and pulled me toward him, mashing me against his broad chest.

"Goodnight, Francesca. Take the next couple of nights off to get your bearings. I will call on you Friday evening."

"Okay," I managed to blurt out, thrown off guard by our sudden closeness. Before I could react properly, he bent down and pressed a chaste yet smoldering kiss on my lips, then backed away and shot up into the air.

"Goodnight, Eric," I whispered to no one. I stared into the cloudless night sky for a few moments before heading back into the house, making sure to lock the door securely behind me.


	7. Burnt Flowers Fallen

Since Eric had left at a reasonable time the night before, I was able to get to bed around midnight and woke up around ten the following morning. I took a leisurely shower, washing my hair and shaving my legs and underarms. I dressed in a pair of light wash denim cutoffs and a beat up old Iron Maiden shirt that had been my dad's, then made my way up to the kitchen to scrounge around for something to eat. I decided to go through with my plan to punish my arteries with eggs fried in bacon grease, and added a couple pieces of toast and an orange in for good measure. I washed it down with a mug of disgusting black coffee. I had a love/hate relationship with coffee: I loved it because I was a bona-fide caffeine addict, but I hated the taste and could only stomach it after I had added so much cream and sugar that it didn't taste like coffee anymore. I found a pen and paper in the office and started a small grocery list: coffee creamer, Twinkies, a couple bottles of wine that I would use some night to celebrate my newfound positive situation, and a six pack of True Blood. I thought it was strange that nobody had thought to include the True Blood in my home, given that I was employed and guarded by vampires. After I had cleaned up the kitchen, I went back to the bedroom and grabbed my clutch and cell phone, toeing on my favorite pair of neon green flip flops as I went. I dialed Ryan's number and sat on the edge of the bed as I waited for him to pick up.

"Hey Frankie, what's up?" I really liked this guy. He was the first person I'd met since Eric had kidnapped me that didn't insist on calling me Francesca or Ms. Davies.

"Not much. I was wondering if you could come with me to the store. I just want to pick up a couple of things."

"Yeah, absolutely. I'll meet you on the porch in a couple of minutes."

We said our quick goodbyes and I went to wait in one of the cozy wicker chairs, locking the door behind me as I left the house. Not that I figured any petty thieves would find their way out to this house in the middle of nowhere, let alone be able to sneak past the Were guards, but I would rather be safe than sorry. Not locking up just felt weird to me. I sat down and was finally able to appreciate the landscaping in the daylight. The lawn was immaculate and the long gravel lane was perfectly maintained and free of any ruts. The woods surrounding the house looked inviting, like something out of a fairy tale, rather than imposing and scary. I saw that the gravel lane led around the side of the house to what I assumed was the garage. I was excited for Ryan to show up so I could go and see what kind of car Eric had given me. After a couple of minutes I saw him making his way over to me from the treeline to my left.

"Hey," I called, grabbing my clutch, phone, and keys from the wicker table and bounding over to meet him halfway.

"Hey. You ready to get out of here for a bit?" He motioned for me to follow him as we went around the house toward the garage.

"Oh my God, you have no idea. I'm so used to living in loud apartment buildings with nosy neighbors, the silence and isolation out here is almost suffocating. Not to mention that Eric keeps being rude to everyone who tries to talk to me for more than two minutes."

He laughed. "Yeah, I already got a tongue lashing for apparently being too chummy with you the other day. He said that, and I quote, my duty is to protect you, not fraternize with you."

"Ugh. He said the same thing to Charles, the head of the vamp security. I don't know why he's being so weird about it. There are guards on duty at all times, what difference does it make if I stop to chat with one of them for a couple of minutes?" We had made our way to the garage and Ryan reached up to a panel on the side and punched in a code. He said, "The code is 4731. Think you can remember that?"

I blanched. That God damn shifty son of a bitch. "Yeah, shouldn't be a problem, considering they're the last four digits of my real social security number. Which I never told Eric, by the way."

Ryan snorted and came back to join me a couple feet away as the garage door opened silently. "Hah. I've worked for Mr. Northman for a couple years now on and off, doing random security-related stuff, and if there's one thing I've learned about him, it's this: if he ever does anything so outrageous that you think he can't possibly top it, think again."

I rolled my eyes. Good to know, I guess. I'll just have to constantly expect Eric to do something to piss me off, annoy me, invade my privacy, or make decisions about my life without consulting me first, and then the only genuine shock I'll ever feel is if he decides _not_ to do one of those things for a change. Damned frustrating vampire. A bit of my annoyance melted away however when the garage door opened completely and I saw a brand spankin' new gunmetal grey Infiniti M. The car choice was a smart one, I had to hand it to him: sophisticated and sporty enough that Eric would be comfortable being seen in it if he ever had to drive it, but not so flashy that it would attract a lot of attention. We entered the garage and I saw that the keys were in the ignition. Ryan and I got into the car and took a moment to admire the posh black leather seats and dark wood interior.

"He sure doesn't know how to do anything low key, does he?" Ryan asked, running his hand over the slick dashboard admiringly.

"I have a feeling this is very low key for Eric, actually. I was figuring I'd come out here to find a Ferrari or something." I buckled my seatbelt and turned the key in the ignition, enjoying the soft but powerful purr of the engine. I pulled out of the garage slowly, taking my time to get a feel for the car, before making my way carefully down the smooth gravel lane until we came to a gatehouse about two hundred yards away from the house. The metal arm was up so I could pass through it but I decided to stop and acquaint myself with the men working the booth. I idled in front of the little hut until a couple guys came out and made their way around to my side of the car.

One of them was an older guy, maybe in his early to mid-forties, with a thick head of salt and pepper hair and bushy eyebrows. He had the hairiest arms I had ever seen, it didn't surprise me at all that he was a Were. He was a solid mass of muscle with a neck as thick as a small tree. The other Were was younger, closer to Ryan's age, with curly brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Where the older Were was blocky looking, the younger one looked like he was built for speed, with long legs and arms and a trim waist that flared up into a broad, muscular chest. It was the younger one who leaned down to speak to me through my open window while Silver Fox stood in the background.

"Hey, you must be Ms. Davies. Hey Ryan," he said with a thick Southern drawl, smiling at me and waving to Ryan who returned the gesture.

"I sure am, but please call me Frankie. What's your name?"

"I'm Jamie, ma'am, and this here's Roy. We're real excited to be workin' for you and Mr. Northman. Like Ryan probably already told ya, anything you need you just holler and we'll get it to ya in a jiffy." I smiled brightly at him. I liked this guy, he was sweet. I looked past him up at Roy and saw him politely smiling at me while holding one hand up to his eyes to shield them from the sun. He seemed cordial enough. So he was a man of few words, apparently. That was cool too, just as long as he wasn't an asshole. Eric had already filled up the asshole quota at this house.

"Thanks Jamie, I appreciate it. You too, Roy," I said, throwing Roy a smile. He nodded and grinned back, walking back over to the gatehouse. "Ryan and I are just headed out to run a few errands and grab some stuff at the store. Y'all want anything? A Coke or something? Is Eric treating you guys okay, letting you eat and take breaks and stuff?" Ryan snickered next to me, shaking his head and pretending to concentrate on his phone when I shot him an annoyed look.

Jamie laughed, "Oh yes ma'am, Mr. Northman is a wonderful boss. Don't you worry about gettin' us nothin', you just enjoy your trip."

"Okay, if you're sure. I'll see you later. Nice to meet you Jamie."

"You too, Ms. Davies." He moved away from the car and jogged back to the gatehouse before I had a chance to correct him.

I continued down the drive until we reached a paved road and Ryan motioned for me to turn left. Once we were settled on the highway, I asked, "Why does everyone insist on calling me Ms. Davies and refuse to listen to me when I ask to be called Frankie?"

"Mr. Northman was very adamant that we be respectful to you. He referred to you as Ms. Davies when he was briefing us on our assignment; I guess everyone just assumed it would be the safe thing to do."

"When you first came to the house the other day, you called me Frankie right off the bat. How'd you know?"

"I heard someone use it at the briefing meeting and thought it sounded like a better name for a twenty five year old than Francesca. I dunno, I guess I just figured it'd sound more personal. I know Mr. Northman doesn't want us to be friends or anything but if we're gonna be spending a bunch of time together, I don't want it to be all cold and awkward, you know?"

"Yeah, totally, I appreciate that. Screw what Eric says, you're gonna be my friend and that's that. He's dead during the day anyway so he doesn't get a say. So who called me Frankie? Eric always calls me Francesca and it drives me insane."

"Some vampire that was there. Long reddish brown hair, really freaky golden eyes, I don't rem-" I cut him off. I knew exactly who he was talking about. My heart started thudding like a drum remembering what had transpired on my very first night at Fangtasia.

"Michael? Was it Michael?"

"Yeah, Michael. That's right. How'd you know? Do you know him?"

"Sort of. We met at Fangtasia the same night I met Eric. Michael and I had been getting to know each other when Eric summoned me and started threatening me and stuff. I got scared and asked for Michael and he said he had sent him away. Why was he at the meeting?"

"I dunno. He and Mr. Northman mostly stood off to the side arguing. It got pretty heated for a few minutes but they were fighting in some weird foreign language so I couldn't tell what they were saying."

"Do you have any idea how I could get into contact with Michael?" I had really enjoyed spending time with Michael that night, and I regretted the fact that I had never gotten around to being his midnight snack. I was hoping that maybe since he was in Eric's retinue and obviously knew who I was, it wouldn't hurt for me to be in contact with him. Even though we had limited time together that night, I really felt like I could trust him. At the very least anyway I figured I could trust him to get me off and let me fall asleep in his stone cold embrace. Being intimate with vampires had absolutely ruined me for normal guys, there was just something so alluring and satisfying about all of their superhuman attributes that I couldn't get enough.

"No, I don't even know the guy. You could try asking one of the vamp guards at night, I guess," he shrugged. If he was secretly judging me for my interest in vampires, he wasn't showing it, and I was very grateful. I had witnessed firsthand on many occasions the disdain that vampires and Weres had for one another. Weres might begrudgingly work for vampires because it was usually simple work that paid well, but they still hated their unbeating hearts with a passion, and passed that hatred on to humans who associated with vampires. I thought about what he said and made a note to ask Charles about the subject later that evening. I was hoping that Eric would stay true to his word and not bother me again until Friday, but I wasn't going to hold my breath over it.

We finally made it to the market in Shreveport and I got stocked up on a few small, unhealthy luxury items that I had been craving. I grabbed some hazelnut coffee creamer and my beloved box of Twinkies, along with a couple bottles of Moscato that were a pricier brand than I normally would have bought for myself, as well as the six pack of True Blood I had decided I needed. After we loaded up the car, we stopped at a small café for lunch. I ordered a patty melt with fries and a Diet Coke, and Ryan got a chicken sandwich and onion rings. We had a good time talking about our pasts and how we had both wound up in Shreveport. Ryan and his family had moved to the area when he was a teenager after his father had gotten kicked out of their pack down in Florida for embezzling pack funds to support his drinking habit. He must have sensed that I felt sorry for him because he said, "Now don't you go giving me that 'oh poor Ryan' look. I've seen it before from everyone I've ever met and I don't want you treating me that way too. My dad's doin' real good now and we're all active and happy in the Shreveport pack. He's almost nine years sober now, so don't you even start." I stuck my tongue out at him and we both laughed, and just like that the tension was gone. I was really starting to enjoy his company. It felt good to finally have someone to bullshit and get out of that damn Bastille with.

After we ate, we walked around downtown for a while, checking out all the little shops and people watching. I ended up buying some incense and scented candles from this cool little head shop and I was excited to use them while I took a bath later. Ryan scrunched up his nose at them and said they smelled like a '70s porn star. I asked him how he knew what a porn star from the '70s smelled like and he said that he couldn't be sure, but if he had to guess, he would not hesitate to bet all of his money that they smelled exactly like my candle. Yeah, I definitely liked this kid.

After a few hours I decided I was ready to go home, so we trekked back to the Infiniti and made our way back out into the country. The drive was peaceful and relaxing. We had all the windows down and were doing a terrible job at singing along with the Skynyrd on the radio. When we pulled up to the gatehouse, Ryan motioned for me to stop and made to get out of the car. "You go on ahead Frankie, I gotta check in with Jamie and Roy. I'll see you later." Part of me was sad that he was leaving, but I had to keep in mind that he did have a job to do other than playing best friends with me.

"Okay, take care. Thanks for supervising me today. You're a natural."

He grinned as he stepped into the gatehouse and pushed the button to raise the metal arm. With a wave, I made my way back up the lane and parked my new toy carefully in the garage. I grabbed my bags and headed up to the front door, but was stopped by a huge pile of cardboard boxes sitting on the porch. There was a note tacked to one of them, written on all-too-familiar cream-colored stationery. Ugh. Even when he isn't here, he's here. I set my bags down and snatched up the note.

_"Francesca,_

_I took it upon myself to have your former apartment cleared of all your effects. In order to better acquaint myself with your tastes, I personally oversaw the operation. I must say, you have quite interesting taste in clothing. I am most intrigued with some of your fashion choices. Perhaps sometime in the future I can convince you to model them for me._

_Eric"_

I didn't know whether to be angry, amused, or horrified that he had actually gone through my clothes. My cheeks flared hot with embarrassment when I thought about all the random pieces of racy lingerie I had acquired over the years. Admittedly, the thought of modeling my latex crotchless panties for Eric sent a surge of unbridled lust through my core, and it took me way longer to find the right key and successfully stick it into the lock than it should have. I went in to the kitchen and put my market purchases away and left the candles and incense on the island, then went back to the porch and started hauling in boxes. I could have called one of the guards for help, but I was grateful for anything to take my mind off of _him_.

There were boxes of clothes, books, and random trinkets. I decided to wash all of the clothes as a sort of fresh start so I went in and tried out my new fancy washer and dryer. As the clothes were being cleaned, I went through the other boxes and started methodically emptying them. By the time the clothes were in the dryer, the sun was starting to dip down below the horizon and I reminded myself to ask Charles about getting in contact with Michael. Even though I figured he wouldn't be up yet, I sent a text to Charles asking him to come up to the house when he came on duty. I went to set my phone down on the kitchen counter when it chimed and startled me. I knew that only very old vampires could wake and move around before sunset, so it surprised me that Charles was texting me back so promptly. Imagine my fucking surprise when the display of my phone notified me that the incoming text wasn't from him at all.

_Eric: Are you staying out of trouble?  
_I scoffed at that. Is it even possible to get into trouble when there are ten Weres guarding your every move and a damn annoying vampire checking up on you when he should be dead for the day?_  
Frankie: Why aren't you asleep right now? Of course I can't even get away from you during the day.  
Eric: I am old. I do not require so much sleep anymore.  
Frankie: You said you weren't gonna bug me until Friday. What gives?  
Eric: I felt your arousal during my rest earlier. Were you thinking of me?  
Frankie: Yeah, I was thinking of finding out where you rest for the day and coming to stake you. Gave me a real hard on.  
Eric: It's a shame you didn't locate me. I've got a hard on for you too.  
Frankie: You're so ridiculous. I'm not texting you anymore, I've got stuff to do. I'll talk to you on Friday, k boss?  
Eric: Have a good night, Francesca.  
Frankie: For the last fucking time, it's Frankie. Goodnight Eric._

I waited for a few seconds to see if he would say anything else, but the phone was silent so I went about breaking down all of the cardboard boxes and setting them in a pile on the porch. I'd ask Ryan to have them removed tomorrow. Satisfied with myself, both for getting the large task of unpacking done and for successfully deflecting Eric, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. One thing I had never gotten around to checking out was the flashy computer in the den. I took my drink and went in to sit down in the special boss chair behind the computer, propping my legs up on the desk and crossing my ankles as I waited for the machine to boot up. "Oh, look at me, I'm Eric Northman. I'm a big scary old vampire and I'm just so great. Oooo," I said to myself in a mocking voice. That asshole had seriously weaseled his way into my head somehow. Even if they were mean thoughts, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

The first thing I did when I got online was create a new e-mail address. I figured all of my old ones were being watched by the Queen's lapdogs and there were a lot of people I wanted to get in contact with. First I sent an e-mail to one of my best friends in NOLA, a witch named Bridget. She and I had worked together at a small independent carnival for a while, doing palm readings and crap like that. She was old enough to be my mom but that was one of the things I liked about her: with age comes experience, and she'd lived enough life to know that you can't please everyone and you just gotta concentrate on being happy. She was one of those no-nonsense, straight shooter types. I missed her desperately. She had been the person to help me escape from the Queen and I hadn't been in contact with her much since I left for fear of both of our safeties. I wrote her a quick message, letting her know that I was okay, and included my new cell phone number. At the last minute, I told her to spread the word to all our friends that I was doing well. For the sake of not getting anyone killed, I figured the fewer people from my old life that I had direct contact with, the better.

After I hit send, there was a knock on the front door. I went to answer it and found Charles standing at the foot of the stairs, looking very stern and professional with his hands clasped behind his back. I had a feeling Eric had really dug into him about being too chummy with me. Well, screw Eric. If Ryan could be my friend during the day, then Charles would be my friend at night, and the Big Blonde Jerk would never have to know about it.

"Ms. Davies. Good evening. I received your text message. How may I be of service to you?" he asked with his lovely British lilt. I stepped out onto the porch and looked down at him.

"Oh come on, you're not gonna act weird toward me now since Eric scolded you, are you? Call me Frankie. Please."

"I am under strict orders from Mr. Northman to-"

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Okay, how about this? You can call me Ms. Davies if you want when he's around, but when he's not here, nobody will ever know that you're my friend and that you call me Frankie. That's right, you heard me. We're going to be friends. You can do your job and be my friend at the same time."

A small smile crossed his lips as he seemed to contemplate what I had said. Finally he spoke, "Very well. Frankie. If we are to be friends, then I insist that you call me Charlie. What can I do for you tonight?"

I returned the smile. "Well, I was wondering if you could put me into contact with a local vampire, actually."

As I figured it would, his smile faded at the mention of a foreign vampire. "I'm afraid I can't do that. As I'm sure you're aware, your whereabouts are a very confidential matter. It would be best if as few people as possible were privy to your location and status."

I ignored his advice. "The vampire I want to talk to is named Michael. He's got long, chestnut kinda colored hair, really pretty brownish gold eyes. I met him at Fangtasia last week. Do you know him? Ryan said I should ask you."

Charles's eyes narrowed. "Mr. McGraw would be wise to think before he speaks."

I rolled my eyes and said, "Oh come on Charlie. You and I are friends, remember? Well, me and Ryan are friends too, and I asked him about Michael but he said he didn't know him personally and that I should try asking a vamp. I know all you local vampires know each other."

"I am acquainted with this vampire you speak of, but it is out of the question to put you into contact with him."

"Look. I'm not forbidden from leaving the grounds, right? Michael doesn't have to come here, I could go to him. Besides, I rubbed all over him while we were dancing. If he really wanted to track me, he'd have found me by now. We're not that far away from Shreveport." Charles was silent as I continued, "I just want to talk to him for a little bit. Please? Eric will never know. We'll just tell him I went out to a movie or got hungry for ice cream or something."

The silence hung in the air until Charles finally let out an unnecessary breath and averted his eyes to the sky in annoyance. His voice was thick with frustration when he said, "It will take me a night or two to get in touch with him. I only know of him casually so I will have to find him through some contacts of mine. I will procure his phone number for you, but after that you are on your own."

I snickered. "Really? You're gonna ask him for his number for me? That's really cute."

Charles glowered. "Do not push me, Frankie. You presume very much on this 'friendship' of ours."

"Aww, come on, I'm just kidding. I really do appreciate this. I know you're going against your orders from Eric and I know you could get in a lot of trouble for it. I thank you sincerely."

His expression softened a bit at my thanks. He nodded and said, "I will let you know when I have the information you have requested. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that's all I needed. Unless you want to come in for a True Blood or something."

"Thank you for the offer, but I am on patrol duty tonight and I must go. Have a pleasant evening, Frankie."

I smiled at the usage of my nickname. I finally had two people on my side, versus the one infuriating blonde jackass on the other side who insisted on calling me Francesca. "Thanks, Charlie. You too." He returned the smile and was gone in a vampire blur. I turned and went back to the house, grabbing my drink from the den where I had left it. I settled down on the couch for a long night of doing absolutely nothing.


	8. Various Methods of Escape

A/N: I'm sure I took some liberties with the Latin in this chapter. Google Translate was the best I could do, so if you happen to be a Latin aficionado, please forgive any incorrectness.

* * *

The next day passed slowly. Since it was Ryan's day off, I had Jamie accompany me into town to pick up a few basic reagents for my workroom. Eric hadn't specified what I was going to be doing on Friday, but I picked up what I would need for wards and human loyalty spells in case he wanted me to go to Fangtasia and work on the employees. I found most of what I needed at various shops in downtown Shreveport, but some of the more exotic reagents I would have to order online. After we got home, I put away my purchases in the workroom, filling up some of the glass vials and bottles on the shelves and labeling them accordingly. As leery as I was about using my magic for profit, part of me was also excited. Magic was more than just a hobby to me; it was in my heart and soul. My memaw had been a very skilled witch in her time and had taught me everything she knew.

After I got all of my supplies organized, I decided to grab a book from the office and read out on the porch. It was a cool, sunny day with a light breeze, and I wanted to enjoy the weather as much as I could before I started keeping vampire hours again. Unsurprisingly, most of the books were either written in a foreign language, or political or philosophical in nature. I spied Machiavelli's _The Prince_ and rolled my eyes. I had read that in high school and distinctly remembered one part of it: when confronted with the choice of either being feared or being loved, an effective ruler must choose to be feared. I figured Eric had probably read that particular chapter over and over again; it fit him to a T.

I kept skimming through the books until I found a random collection of Norse mythology stories. It was a heavy tome with a dark green velvet cover and gold-edged pages. I took the book and my glass of water out on to the porch and made myself comfortable by plopping down into one of the chairs and pulling the other in front of me to use as a foot rest. Luckily, the book was in English, but it appeared to be quite old and possibly handwritten in a blocky calligraphic script. There were beautiful illustrations of some of the tales, outlined by ornate scrolled borders. I traced Muspelheim's red-orange flames as they stretched over the Ginnungagap to melt the frosts of Niflheim. A strange feeling came over me as I imagined a human Eric sitting around a fire a thousand years ago, telling these same tales in his native tongue. What was this strange swirl of emotions? Pity? Sorrow? Somehow I figured that if Eric knew I was sitting here feeling sorry for him, it would only serve to make him angry. I pushed the thoughts out of my head and my mind drifted to another vampire that I thought of often.

Cliff and I had spent a lot of time talking about his human life. Since he was such a young vamp, he remembered much about being alive, and unlike some of his peers, he found comfort in speaking about it, rather than apathy. He told me about meeting Marilyn Monroe at a beach in California back when she was still Norma Jeane Mortenson. He showed me black and white pictures of him and his girlfriend Peggy, who he was planning on asking to marry him when he was turned. I remembered a particular night we had been lying in bed after a spectacular round of sex. He looked down at me as I lay nestled in the crook of his arm and told me that I made him feel things he didn't think he could feel anymore. Apparently my personality reminded him of Peggy; we were both stubborn and willful to a fault, but also trusting and generous and full of life. I guess he couldn't bring himself to tell me he loved me, since he left it at that, but I didn't need words to determine the true extent of his feelings. The tender way he kissed me and held me for the rest of the night told me all I needed to know. It was after that night that we had started seriously talking about him eventually turning me, but in a cruel twist of fate, it ended up that it wasn't _my_ eventual death we had to worry about. It was his.

I realized I had started crying when I looked down at the still open tome in my lap and saw wet splotches on the fragile pages. I took the edge of my t-shirt and tried to gently dab them away without smearing anything. I used the back of my hand to wipe the wetness off my cheeks and slammed the book shut. I hated myself when I got like this. It wasn't like I was the only person to ever love and lose, or have tragedy in their life. All things considered, I had it really good compared to some. I had a house and a car and friends that cared about me, I had a job and was getting paid to do what I was good at. There was really no reason for me to be moping around, and I knew in my heart that Cliff wouldn't have wanted me to surround myself with sad memories of him. I drank the rest of my now-lukewarm water and gathered my things to go inside. I couldn't shake the crappy mood I was in no matter what I tried, so I resigned myself to taking a nap. I flopped down on my bed and stared at the wall for a while before I felt my eyelids begin to droop.

_[[[[[ I was acutely aware that I was being followed as I ran along a mulch path, surrounded on either side by dark, dense trees. The moon was full and high in the sky, flanked by a blanket of stars that seemed to watch me intently as I flitted along. I wasn't wearing any shoes and the jagged wood chips poked my feet as I ran, but the pain barely registered. I looked down at the silky knee-length red dress I was wearing. The bodice was tight and strapless, accentuating my modest bosom and flaring out into a loose skirt with a scalloped edge. I briefly pondered on why I was running through the woods at night dressed like I was on my way to prom, but the thoughts were replaced with a pang of longing as I again felt the invisible pull that was leading me to places unknown. I couldn't remember why I had started running, or why I was so sure that I was even going in the right direction, but I kept running anyway, panting heavily and brushing my loose hair out of my face when a breeze picked up and filtered over me. I ran and ran and ran for what felt like hours, the thick forests on either side of me blurring together into an intimidating mass as I sped down the path. The only thing that stopped me from turning around was the increasing power of whatever was summoning me. I felt like I was magnetic, being drawn to some frightening pole by a force beyond my comprehension. When the force became so imposing that I could barely think, I finally broke through the tree line and found myself standing on the shore of a small lake. The water looked black in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the ambience of the moon and stars. It rippled gently in the breeze and invited me to come closer. I walked slowly to the edge of the lake, dipping my bare feet into the cold water and embracing the sting of it on the cuts from the mulch. Though the invisible magnetic pull had dulled when I reached the lake, I could still feel it at the edge of my consciousness, and it seemed to be urging me to go further into the water. As I waded out further I felt the water licking at the hem of my dress, soaking the fabric and plastering it to my legs. The water was almost frigid and I felt myself begin to shiver as I continued on, the water now up to my waist. I rested my hands on the surface of the water as I turned my face to the sky, eyes closed. I stood there for a few moments before a noise from behind me roused me from my reverie and I turned around to face the thing that had been stalking me through the forest._

_Eric was standing on the shore, arms at his sides as he stared at me with an unreadable look on his face. He seemed to glow in the moonlight and his hair looked paler than normal as it hung down onto his shoulders. My eyes traveled down his body and I realized that he was naked. Instead of averting my eyes like I knew I should, I drank in his exquisite form and took a step back further into the water. I felt like a marionette being manipulated by an expert puppeteer as I raised my arms to him, beckoning him to me. Slowly, he made his way to the edge of the water and paused, seeming to ask for permission. With my arms still outstretched, I took another step back into the water, which was now up to my chest. He entered the water and made his way to me, not speaking or touching me, just staring at me with longing in his eyes. I reached a hand to his face and stroked his cold cheek, which actually felt warm in comparison to the icy water. His eyes closed briefly as I caressed him and he turned his face in my hand to kiss my palm. He gently reached for me and pulled me to him, pressing his naked body against mine. He moved his hands to my back, pulling down the zipper of my dress and allowing it to slide down my body and sink down into the water. I closed my eyes in pleasure as I felt him run his hands up my backside, tickling up my back and over my shoulders as he moved his hands to rest on my neck. Finally, he lowered his face to mine and kissed me deeply. I returned the kiss, moving my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist. I felt his erection pressing against my sex as he moved his arms to circle around my back. We continued to explore each other's mouths for a while before I felt him reach down to position himself at my entrance. He broke our kiss and looked into my eyes questioningly. I nodded and kissed his chest, and with one sure stroke he buried himself completely inside of me._

_I threw my head back and watched the stars as he drove himself into me again and again. The quiet stillness of the night was now punctuated by the splashing of the water with each meeting of our hips and my desperate gasps. He brought one hand up to the back of my neck to prop my head up so I was looking directly at him. Our gazes met and I found myself unable to look away from his steely eyes, which now looked black in the darkness. I gripped his biceps as he stroked slowly in and out of me, withdrawing almost completely and then slamming back in. The feeling of fullness that I had when he was inside of me was indescribable and the mounting pleasure was like nothing I had ever felt before. Our union was quenching more than just a physical need. With each thrust, I felt something awaken in me, like a morning glory unfurling its petals to embrace the sun after being closed off to the night. It struck me as strange that a creature of darkness like Eric would make me think of the daylight. I tried to concentrate on this new sensation I was feeling; I felt like I was on the precipice of some profound revelation that would irrevocably change my life, perhaps even Eric's life. As if he sensed that my mind had wandered, Eric reached for one of my arms and brought it to his mouth, kissing my wrist gently before biting down. He alternated between pounding into me and drawing on the wound, and with each motion I felt my lucidity begin to wane. He increased the pace of his thrusts to an almost frightening speed and I did my best to match his movements but was only able to contribute a small amount before my pleasure reached its apex and I was thrown into oblivion by my orgasm. I couldn't help but toss my head back and scream his name as he continued his frenzied pace, slamming into me as he continued to draw from my wrist, using his hands on my backside to support my exhausted body. Moments later, he came inside me with a roar and picked me up to mash me against his chest, holding me lovingly and stroking my back while still inside of me. I wrapped my arms around his torso and lazily kissed his chest. We stayed just like that, silent in the moonlight, floating in the frigid water, joined intimately, neither of us daring to speak or move. I contentedly closed my eyes and willed the moment to never end. ]]]]]_

I woke up covered in sweat, lying on my stomach with my face buried in a pillow. My hair was plastered to my face in damp ringlets and I felt a familiar satisfying ache between my legs. I rolled onto my side and stared out the window, noticing the sun hovering just above the horizon. What the fuck had I just dreamt? What was all that weird shit? Not that a sex dream about Eric was unpleasant, in fact it had been the best wet dream I'd ever had, but what was up with all the emotional crap? God, it had all felt so real. I remembered every second of what I had dreamt and was shocked that I seemed to feel the same emotions in real life that I had felt while in that imaginary lake with Eric. I still couldn't put my finger on just what it was that I was feeling, but there was a sort of dull vibration in my head where I figured those emotions would come to reside once I could put a name to them. I was fighting an overwhelming urge to call him and ask him to come to me. What would I do if he did? The last time he had been here all he had done was annoy me with his rudeness and presumptions. Besides, it was already Thursday anyway. Just one more night and he'd be here of his own volition and I wouldn't have to admit to him just how much I wanted to see him.

I stuck my feet off the edge of the bed and sat up, clutching at my head as it throbbed. I tried to relieve some of the pressure behind my eyeballs by gently massaging them. I stripped off my clothes and threw them in a pile on the floor, then headed to the bathroom and started up the shower. I only washed and conditioned my hair, then combed through it and piled it up on my head with a clip. After wrapping towel around myself, I set the tub to filling and fetched the candles and incense I had bought earlier in the week, along with a lighter I had found in one of the kitchen drawers. In short order, the bath was full of fragrant bubbles and I was hunkered down into it in the darkness lit only by my candles, savoring the warmth of the water on my skin and the complex, musky aroma of the incense in the air. The only thing that would have made it better was some relaxing music. I decided buying an iPod would be one of the first things I would do with my first paycheck. I smiled at the thought and rested my head on the rim of the tub for a while until the water started to get cold. Reluctantly, I drained the water and toweled myself off, padding back into the bathroom to put on some pajamas since it was now after dark and I didn't want to get re-dressed. I settled on a pair of silky black shorts and a matching tank, making sure to grab a robe to take with me just in case someone came to the house.

A quick glance at the microwave in the kitchen revealed that it was only about eight o'clock. I made myself a quick sandwich and grabbed a can of Coke and made my way to the living room to watch stupid reality TV while I ate. There was some ridiculous new vampire version of The Bachelor where the eligible vamp handed out black roses instead of red ones every week. How cliché. I alternated between laughing so hard I felt like I was gonna puke and wanting to shoot myself in the face as the drama played out. One girl tried slipping colloidal silver into another girl's drink so that when she went on her date with the vamp bachelor, he would subconsciously find her repulsive and send her home. Unfortunately, she got caught and ended up getting sent home herself before I could enjoy the fruits of her labor. Hah. And here I was, thinking that vampires were the masters of deception. I was lying on the floor resting my head in my hands as I looked up at the TV when there was a knock at the door. I grabbed my robe and quickly cleaned up the evidence of my dinner, then tiptoed to the door and peeked through the stained glass to see someone completely unexpected standing on the porch.

"Michael?" I asked warily, not yet opening the door. Hadn't Charles said he would pass along my phone number? Michael was the last person I expected to see tonight, and I found myself suddenly on edge at the thought of Eric dropping by unexpectedly to find him here.

"Frankie? It is so good to hear your voice. When Eric took you to his office that night at Fangtasia I feared the worst. I apologize for leaving you there but unfortunately I was not given a choice in the matter," he spit the last few words of that sentence as though they left a bad taste in his mouth. I could hear the remorse in his voice and I believed that he hadn't wanted things to turn out the way they did. I also knew that he really didn't have a choice in the matter when Eric had ordered him away. I didn't figure anyone had much of a choice on anything when it came to Eric's wishes.

"I know. I'm not angry with you, just surprised that you're here. How did you get past the guards?"

"They know I am here. Your friend Charles and I came to an agreement of sorts. He allowed me to come see you here for myself, and in turn I gave him my word that I would not reveal your location to the Queen."

I was dumbfounded by that statement. He was really planning on turning me over to the Queen? Perhaps I had misjudged him. Rage flared through me and I ripped the door open to face him. I was momentarily struck again by his beauty; the sharp Romanesque angles of his nose and brow, the soft auburn hair that brushed the collar of his burgundy button down shirt, and his piercing amber eyes that were currently glittering with amusement. I pushed my longing aside and instead embraced my anger. I kept my volume low so as not to attract attention from the guards, but my voice dripped with venom when I said, "You would turn me over to the Queen? How dare you come here and say that to me? Why even bother showing up if those were your intentions?" I pulled my robe tighter around myself and crossed my arms over my chest, throwing daggers at the space between his brows with my eyes.

His eyes twinkled as he watched me shift, and he gave me a somewhat wounded smile when he replied, "Of course I wouldn't turn you over to her, but it was the only trump card I could play to ensure that I would be able to see you myself. How was I to know this phone number supposedly belonging to you wasn't some charade set up to entertain Northman, and that you weren't already dead?"

"Eric wouldn't kill me. I'm too valuable," I said, my tone softening slightly at Michael's explanation. For some reason, I really did feel like I could trust him, and I was hoping with everything I had that my confidence wasn't misplaced.

Michael snorted at that. "Hah. Forgive me, I do not doubt your value, but I do doubt the Northman's honor. What does that say about a man who keeps you alive only because you have something he desires?"

I smirked, "Isn't that why you're here?" He gave me a small smile and I stepped back to allow him over the threshold of the house, deadbolting the door behind him. He followed me to the living room and sat down on one of the leather couches. I clicked off the TV and sat down on the couch with him, keeping an acceptable distance, and tucked my legs underneath me. Michael looked around the room and finally settled his gaze on me, an impassive look on his face. "Is he treating you well?" he asked genuinely.

"So far, so good. I guess he likes to think of this whole situation as a business transaction. I'll perform certain services for him and he'll compensate me for them. I really haven't seen too much of him these past few days, which is kind of nice since he has a tendency to be rude and overbearing to people that so much as look in my direction."

"That is because you are a possession to him, Frankie. You are a shiny bauble that he has placed on a high shelf for safe keeping. He keeps those who would also covet something from you, be it friendship or anything else, at a distance because he can't stand the thought of sharing his favorite new plaything." I scoffed and searched his face for any hint that he was joking. When I could tell he wasn't, my heart sank a bit. I supposed Michael was more acquainted with Eric than I was, but I didn't want to believe any of what he said was true. Earlier I had longed for Eric's company, but now that the idea that he was just using me because it was convenient soured me to our inevitable meeting the next night.

"Please don't be sad. I apologize for being so blunt, I didn't mean to offend you. I am glad that he is treating you amicably." Michael had a sweet smile on his face as he said this and I could tell he was trying to cheer me up. I returned the smile and pushed the sad, confused thoughts about my situation out of my head. This conversation needed a serious nudge into less depressing waters. I shrugged and said, "It's okay. Let's talk about something else. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. Anything you like," he replied. At that moment I untucked my legs from beneath me and stretched them out toward him, resting my feet in his lap. He gazed down at them with a mischievous smile on his face, but made no move to touch me.

I asked quietly, "That night at Fangtasia, let's say Eric hadn't been there and you and I wouldn't have been interrupted. What do you think would have happened?" He slowly reached one of his delicate but powerful hands to stroke my leg from ankle to knee. My skin prickled deliciously under his cold ministrations. He concentrated on his movements for a moment before finally looking at me. He responded silkily, "Honestly? I probably would have done everything in my power to persuade you to leave with me." His short fingernails scratched my skin gently on each downstroke of his hands as he continued to massage my legs.

I moved one of my feet to tease the growing bulge in his black slacks. "Then what?" I purred, "Would we have played cards? Watched a movie?" Suddenly he was on top of me, his weight pressing me down into the plush leather of the couch. He gently ground his pelvis against me and my legs instinctively circled around the back of his thighs. He reached up to unclip my hair and pushed it gently out of my face as it fell down around my shoulders. As he went to rest his face in the crook of my neck, he whispered, "No. I'd have fed from you..." He kissed my neck and took a fistful of my hair and buried his nose in it, inhaling deeply. Then he said, "…and then I'd have fucked you so hard you wouldn't have been able to leave the bed all day. And when I awoke that night I'd have done it all again until you were begging me to stop." He punctuated his flirtations with gentle kisses along the part of my collarbone left exposed by my black silk robe. I could feel the moisture pooling between my thighs as I reached up to gently tug on his hair. Breathily I said, "I don't think you'd have had much persuading to do."

He closed his eyes and groaned as he bent to kiss me. His lips were thin but soft and deft as they worked against mine, and I noted that he tasted strangely like blackberries as our mouths parted so our tongues could explore. He broke our kiss and moved up to sit on his knees as he removed my robe and threw it onto the other couch. I lifted my arms up so he could pull off my tank top and shimmied out of my shorts as he went to unbutton his own shirt. As he tugged the shirt out of his waistband, I undid his belt and zipper so I could reach my hand down the front of his silky grey boxers. I stroked him gingerly as I planted kisses along the trail of auburn hair that led down below his navel and he balled up his fists in my hair when I pulled out his cock and kissed the head of it. I licked along the slit and teased his balls with my hand before opening my mouth to take him in. I swirled my tongue around him and used my teeth to softly graze his length. His quiet sounds of pleasure spurred my own arousal and I was aching for him to touch me. He let me continue pleasuring him for a while before cupping my face with one hand and pushing me back into the couch with the other. He quickly removed his remaining clothing and began kissing me literally from head to toe. He started with my forehead and my lips, then my collarbone and my breasts. He paused to give my aching peaks some extra attention and I felt like I was going to explode before we got to the really good stuff. He licked little circles down my stomach and dipped his tongue into my navel, then nuzzled his nose into my soft black curls. After continuing down my thighs and shins, he made his way back up and finally reached the area I had been willing him to and spread my lips with a pale hand, running his flattened tongue over my nub in a tortuously slow way. His other hand held my stomach down as I bucked against his face, urging him to devour me. After teasing me for what felt like a million years, he began to pick up the pace with his mouth and alternated between gentle kisses and licks and sucking my clit into his mouth. My pleasure tripled in intensity as he entered two chilled, deftly curled fingers into me and pumped them slowly in time with his licks.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," I moaned as my orgasm built. I could only muster a strained whine when I finally came, eyes closed and head flailing against the arm of the couch. I hadn't even realized I had been pushing Michael's face against me until I felt him shift under my hands. Panting heavily, I peeked down under hooded lids to see him resting his cheek on my thigh, gazing intently up at me with a grin on his face. "Come here," I managed to squeak out and he obliged, moving up to kiss me once again so I could taste myself on him, which made my loins flare with renewed desire. He reached up to drape one of my legs over the back of the couch and I was so wet for him there was not an ounce of resistance as he entered me. More incomprehensible sounds escaped my mouth as he fucked me slowly, rotating his hips to grind against my clit with each stroke. His hands were on my knees holding my legs apart and his hair swung into his face as he looked down to watch himself moving in and out of me.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moaned as he picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts now slamming me back against the arm of the couch. My hands rested on his stomach as he pounded into me, the sound of flesh on flesh on leather filling the otherwise silent room. I gently curled my fingers to dig my nails into him and he growled in response, reaching a hand down to rub tiny circles over my clit.

A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead as the familiar pressure built within my core and threatened to explode. "Oh my God. Yes. Fuck me. Harder." I commanded between gasps as I desperately tried to fill my lungs with air. Michael began fucking me as hard as he possibly could without accidentally breaking me. The effort to restrain his strength while still giving me what I wanted slowed down his thrusts a bit, but the increased force of his weight behind each movement of his hips had me straddling the border of pleasure and pain that I craved. Never deviating from his pace, Michael hovered over me and met my mouth with his, brushing roughly against my lips and tugging at them with his teeth. I felt his fangs were out and I used the last grip of strength I had left to whisper "Bite me." He licked the tip of my nose and moved his head down to my breast, sucking my nipple roughly before biting just above it.

I came with an unrestrained yelp as his teeth at my breast seemed to draw my orgasm out along with my blood. Colors danced behind my eyelids as I rocked my hips to meet his thrusts and I felt the warm wetness of blood under my fingernails as I clawed down his back, pressing him against me. A few moments later he came inside me with a grunt after a final forceful thrust, grinding his hips into my pussy as he emptied his seed, lapping gently at the puncture marks on my breast while I stroked his hair. He withdrew from me gently and flipped us over so that I was lying on top of him, my legs sprawled around his sides and my face buried in his neck. I toyed with a lock of his shiny chestnut hair while he traced jagged lines up and down my back and I kissed a line along his jaw and up to his mouth where he returned my kiss passionately. I smiled at him as he broke the silence.

"You are even more magnificent than I originally gave you credit for," he said with a lazy grin on his face.

I chuckled. "You're not so bad yourself. In fact, I think I told you at Fangtasia that you're pretty fucking spectacular. Yeah, that's about right." He laughed at that, his rich baritone sending chills down my spine. I sighed as I traced the auburn curls down his chest toward his navel. Part of me was ecstatic that Michael had taken the initiative to come see me, but another part was sad. Now we would have to sneak around behind Eric's back and Lord only knows what kind of hell he would raise if he somehow found out that not only had I invited an "unauthorized" person over, but also that it was a vampire, and that it was Michael. Suddenly I remembered what Ryan had told me about the two of them arguing over me. I tried to broach the subject casually.

"So, I heard through the grapevine that you were at Fangtasia arguing with Eric over me a few nights ago."

I could hear the amusement in his voice as he said, "I was. I wanted to know if you were all right. I thought the way he went about procuring you was barbaric, and of course I am aware of his 'take what I want now, ask questions later' method of doing business. He refused to tell me anything so that was when I casually mentioned going to the Queen. He must have figured it was an idle threat since he didn't bring me to you immediately. Either that, or he's got some scheme cooked up to kill me so I can't talk."

I suddenly bolted upright and met his gaze. "He wouldn't do that, would he? He'd really kill you? Over me?"

Michael's expression was grim for a few seconds before his façade cracked and he laughed at me, my favorite smile lighting up his eyes. "Oh Frankie, I'm just joking with you. If he wanted me dead, he'd have seen to it already. If there's anything good I can say about Eric Northman, it's that he knows how to get things done. Trust me, if I had anything to worry about from him, I'd be a pile of dust somewhere by now."

I settled back down onto his chest. His assurances had done little to convince me we were safe. I winced as I realized Eric would probably be able to smell Michael and evidence of our "activities" the next night when he came over. I started to slide off the couch so I could go get dressed but Michael grabbed my forearm and flung me gently back down on top of him, grasping around my waist to prevent any further attempts at escape. "Just where do you think you're going?" he asked, a coy smile on his face as he looked down at me.

"Eric's coming over tomorrow night. I gotta get everything cleaned up, and you've gotta get out of here. If he smells you, he'll flip shit, and I am so not going to deal with that."

"That's it then? You're tired of me already?"

I swatted at his shoulder and he turned his head to nip at my fingers. "Come on, it's not like that. We just have to be careful until I come up with a good way to deal with things. If Eric found out you were here and that my guards helped you to see me, he'd probably stake you, fire Charlie and Ryan and all the other guards, and then I'd be back at square one by myself with nothing to look forward to but being shackled to a wall and an empty bucket to pee in. Do you have somewhere to stay? Maybe I could come to see you instead of you coming here." He pulled me to him and kissed me softly before answering.

"I would very much enjoy that." He sighed and brushed my hair out of my face. "Well, let's get dressed then. If we must." I kissed his palm and as I moved to get up, he planted a firm swat on my naked backside, causing me to yelp which elicited a throaty chuckle from behind me as I stooped to put my silky pajamas back on. It had only taken me a minute to get re-dressed but by the time I turned around, Michael was sitting fully dressed on the couch, looking like he had just gotten done with a business meeting rather than having rough, sweaty sex. I walked to him and took his hand and led him out onto the porch, leaving the front door propped open. He took my hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing my knuckles gently.

"I will rest comfortably today knowing that you are well, Frankie. May I call upon you again?"

I smiled. "Duh. Can you give Charlie your number for me? It's probably safer if I don't leave it lying around or put it into my phone. Eric has serious personal space issues."

"I will see to it. I look forward to meeting with you again. You are a very special girl."

I blushed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "I think you're biased since I just had sex with you."

He gave me a lopsided grin. "Not true. I've known you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

I closed the space between us and tilted my head up to kiss him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he bent to deepen the kiss. I pulled back before things got too intense and whispered, "Handle with care, okay?"

A small smile crossed his lips. "Yes. You as well, Frankie." I stepped back and he was gone in a blur, though I thought I could still smell a hint of his cologne in the air. I inhaled deeply and looked at the stars for a moment before going back inside to clean up the evidence of our little tryst. I put my pajamas and robe in the laundry machine and started a load, then took a shower and got re-dressed. I found some room spray and spritzed it around, and took a cloth with some of the most fragrant soap I could find in the bathroom around to the couches and tables and anything else Michael might have touched. For good measure, I rolled around on the couches and intentionally brushed up against the door and coffee table and everything else in the living room. I felt like a bitch in heat marking her territory, but whatever I had to do to prevent the proverbial shit from hitting the fan, I'd do it. At the last second, a thought popped into my head. If I had been able to find a spell to mask _my_ scent, I should be able to find one to mask Michael's, too. I bounded through the foyer and down the hall to my workroom, flicking on the light and dropping to my knees in front of the bookshelf that held my spellbooks. I quickly found the one I wanted and hopped up onto the wooden table to leaf through it.

The book was an old one; it had belonged to my memaw, and her mother before her. The pages were faded and dog-eared and splattered with dried splotches of who-knows-what, but it was priceless and irreplaceable to me. I flipped through page after page, passing spells to bring wealth and health and love and luck. Just a paragraph or two later came the spells for confusion and jealousy, and the hexes and jinxes that were known to drive people to utter madness. Part of my fascination with magic was always due to its nature as sort of a cosmic double-edged sword. The same words that could urge your crush to finally ask you out could be the same words to influence that crush to set himself on fire if they were twisted in the right way. I passed by the nasty spells, though taking time to note a few choice ones I would save for any particularly rainy days, or rather nights, with Eric and finally came to the protective spells: wards, barriers, translocation, and the like. I was only able to find the spell Bridget and I had used to mask me, but it involved chanting my name. Maybe if I said his instead? It was worth a shot. A quick glance at my newly semi-stocked shelf confirmed that I did indeed have all the reagents I needed. I eased down off the table and grabbed what I needed: three black candles, dried foxglove, and peppermint oil.

I set up a glass dish in the center of the table and set the candles around it in a triangle. A pinch of dried foxglove and just a drop of peppermint oil in the dish completed the setup. All I needed was a lighter and my good luck charm. I ran back to the bathroom where I had left the lighter and stopped by my underwear drawer where I had hidden my small cache of valuables: mostly old jewelry that had belonged to my memaw and a few pictures from my childhood. After some digging I found what I was looking for and sighed contentedly as I felt its familiar smoothness and warmth in my palm before I slipped it around my neck. It was one of the last things my memaw had given to me before she passed away, and it had been given to her by her grandmother when she was just a girl. It was an old sterling silver spoon, barely as long as my finger, tied into a knot. My memaw said that her grandmother had tied the knot with her mind; it had been one of her first acts after mastering the art of telekinesis. According to memaw, the act had imbued the spoon with some of my great great grandma's essence, and any spells cast while the artifact was worn would both be strengthened by the talisman, but also bolster its power in return. As long as I wore the necklace, my spells would be exponentially more potent than they normally would be, and their power would only increase with time. I normally kept the necklace on at all times, but I had taken it off in exchange for my amethyst and black diamond choker, which had been a gift from Cliff, the night I had ended up at Fangtasia. I marveled at how warm the spoon felt against my skin. It had always felt like it radiated heat, pulsing from within with a secret energy. I returned to my workroom with the talisman around my neck and the lighter in my hand.

I stood at the table and lit the candle closest to me, the top of the triangle. I used the flame of the candle to light the one in the back left corner, then used that candle to light the last one. Picking up the third candle, I hovered the flame over the small mound of dried herbs and peppermint oil in the dish. Peppermint oil and the fumes it produces are very flammable, and in a fraction of a second the little pile became a dazzling pyre, wafting the strong peppermint scent into the air. As the herbs writhed and blackened under the red-orange flames, I closed my eyes and recited the words from the spellbook. "Sensus deficio. Natura est absens. Michael in terra et in aera. Purgatio halitus. Qui dea matre, rogo autem te." I felt a rush of wind that had no place being in the room. It whipped my hair around my face and I opened my eyes to see the flames on the candles had gone out. The spoon around my neck felt like it was scalding my skin, but I knew that my flesh would remain unmarred. I was satisfied that the spell had worked, reinforced by the gentle tingle flowing through my body, and I could smell the peppermint oil in the air. With any luck, that's all Eric would smell, too. I cleaned up the remains of my work and smiled to myself as I went to the kitchen for a well-deserved glass of my fancy new wine.


	9. The Great Below

The next morning I awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. I lay on my side for a while, staring out the window at the mid-morning sun, twirling the spoon on the chain around my neck. It had been months since I had used my powers in any sort of meaningful way and found that I had missed the sense of relevancy that magic gave my life. It made me feel useful and knowledgeable, like I was contributing something interesting to the world. Granted, my powers usually benefited supes rather than my fellow humans, but it still felt good to know that someone, somewhere thought I was worth something.

I rolled around in bed for a while, not quite wanting to get up yet, but finally talked myself into heading to the kitchen for some coffee. As the pot was filling, I grabbed my phone and dialed Ryan's number.

"Hey chick," he answered after a couple of rings. I grinned into the phone.

"Hey dude. Wanna come up to the house for some coffee?"

"Jamie's gonna be so jealous when I tell him I got invited to the house. He really likes you, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. He does not."

"No, he totally does. All he's talked about this morning is how much fun he had yesterday when you two went into town."

"Yeah, he probably had fun because he was able to get away from this God forsaken place for a couple hours. In that respect, I had fun too. You coming, or what?"

"On my way."

"Okay, just come on in when you get here. I'll be in the kitchen." We hung up and I went to the bedroom to throw on a sweatshirt since I was clad in only a pair of flannel sleep pants and a white wifebeater. I returned to the kitchen to grab some eggs and bacon out of the fridge. I had just put the bacon down into the pan when I heard the front door open and click shut. I turned around and gave Ryan a grin before turning around to scramble the eggs.

"Dang, I get coffee _and_ breakfast? Have I told you how much I'm enjoying this new friendship of ours?" I heard from behind me. I chuckled and turned to shake the spatula at him.

"Well I can't have you walking around with an empty stomach while you're supposed to be protecting me. You won't do much good if you're malnourished and decrepit."

"I probably won't do much good after eating myself into a food coma, either," he laughed. I laughed with him as I grabbed a couple of mugs down and poured the coffee. He took his black. I poured enough creamer into mine that it there was barely any coffee in the mug. Just the way I like it. I drained the bacon on a plate with a paper towel on it, then cooked the eggs in the grease. I placed our finished plates down on the island and went to sit next to Ryan. We bantered while we ate about the weather and LSU's recent basketball victory, and after I had everything cleaned up I refreshed our mugs of coffee and we moved to the living room to watch The Price is Right. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, Ryan got a strange look on his face.

"Ooooo-weeee, what the hell did you do in here?"

I tried to keep my tone neutral when I replied, "What do you mean?"

"Frankie, it smells like a Dentyne Ice factory in here. You don't smell that minty smell?"

"Um… no? That's all you can smell is the mint, though?" I pushed past him and flopped onto one of the couches, grabbing the remote and flipping through until I found what I was looking for.

"Yeah, it's super minty. I feel like someone ripped my head off and replaced it with an Altoid. Did you get a new room spray or something?" Ryan was still standing at the doorway, sniffing the air with his eyes closed, looking every bit the Were he was.

"No. I don't even smell what you're talking about."

"Are you kidding me? You have to." He came and stood closer to the couch, eyeing me suspiciously.

"I said I don't, okay? God. Maybe you're going crazy."

"Naw… that ain't it. Come on, Frankie, there's something goin' on. You're actin' funny."

I sighed. Ryan already knew about Michael, and he knew I was a witch, what harm could there be in telling him what really happened?

"Alright," I said, "but if I tell you, it stays between us, and we never talk about it again. Deal?"

"Deal," he said excitedly as he sat across from me on the other couch, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. He looked like I was about to tell him the cure for cancer or something.

"Okay. So, remember how I was asking you about that vampire Michael and you told me I should ask one of the night guards? Well I asked Charles, he's the head of night security, to put me in contact with Michael. Just an exchange of phone numbers was all I wanted, but apparently when they got together, Michael threatened to go to the Queen with information about me unless he got to see me in person," I paused as Ryan's features clouded over with anger at the mention of Michael going to Sophie Anne. I held up my hand to calm him down and he nodded for me to continue, "So of course Charles let him come here. Michael said he never really would have gone to the Queen but he figured saying that was the only way he'd get to see me face to face. He was worried about my safety. So, yeah. Michael came here, and some things happened, and-" Ryan cut me off.

"What do you mean some things happened? Did he hurt you? Those fucking incompetent vamps actually left you alone with him! I swear if he fucking hurt you I'll find him and sta-" I nodded my head frantically.

"No! No. He didn't hurt me. We uh… kinda picked up where we left off the night we met at Fangtasia…" I looked down at my feet and brushed a non-existent spec of dirt off my flannel pajama pants. I could feel Ryan's eyes boring holes into me but I didn't dare to meet his gaze. Several silent moments ticked by before Ryan finally spoke.

"Okay, so, yeah. You guys did… whatever. That still doesn't explain the smell."

"Well, you know Eric's supposed to come over tonight, and he'd have a fucking conniption if he found out Michael had been here against his orders. All I did was cast a simple spell to mask Michael's scent. I used peppermint oil as one of the reagents, hence the strong minty-ness." I still hadn't dared to meet Ryan's gaze. I was looking down into my lap, wringing my hands.

Ryan sighed and finally said, "Hey… I'm sorry for being so judgmental. It's none of my business what you do in your free time, or who you do it with. You're a grown ass woman and I shouldn't be projecting onto you. I don't want you to feel weird around me, okay?" I finally looked up and saw him smiling my favorite lopsided grin. I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and smiled back.

"I don't want things to be weird either. Let's just forget about it, huh?" He nodded and we both focused our attention on the TV. We watched for a while before his phone went off and he excused himself.

"Well, duty calls. Jamie's wondering where I'm at. He'll probably pester me about you for the rest of the day." I threw the remote at him and he caught it easily, tossing it onto the couch with a laugh.

"Shut up. Get outta here," I said to him, sticking my tongue out for good measure. He gave a little wave and then he was gone. I got up and went to the kitchen to put our dirty coffee mugs in the dishwasher and saw on the microwave clock that it was just after one in the afternoon. I decided to go outside for a while and enjoy the sun while I could, since I would officially be starting my new job that night. I toed on my flip flops and walked around the yard, exploring the empty garden plot and mapping out in my head what kind of veggies I wanted to plant. Maybe I could even grow some of my own reagents. The thought put a smile on my face, and my good mood heightened exponentially as I walked around to the back of the house and noticed the large in-ground pool. Though it was drained and covered at the moment since it wasn't quite nice enough outside to swim yet, the thought of having my own pool to float around in made me giddy. I did a little happy dance as I peeked under the tarp and saw the gorgeous jewel-toned tiles staring back at me like a promise.

I walked around the large back yard for a while, enjoying the feel of the dewy grass as it brushed against the bare tops of my feet. I circled around the perimeter, staying close to the tree line, gazing into the dense, dark mass of forest and occasionally making out a deer or raccoon. I hadn't been paying much attention to where I was going and suddenly the monotony of the dense foliage was broken by a path leading into the woods. I stopped abruptly and peered down the path, trying to make out what was at the other end, but found it impossible to see anything other than trees and shadows. My stomach did a flip flop as I looked down and noticed that the path was paved with mulch. I had to grab onto a nearby tree to stop my knees from buckling as the memory of the vivid dream from the previous night rushed into my head. Suddenly I felt very vulnerable and alone, like there was something out there in the woods watching me and waiting for an opportune time to snatch me up and take me away to fuck only knows where. I backed away slowly from the path, refusing to take my eyes off it until I had fumbled my way halfway back to the house, then turned around and ran the rest of the way as fast as my sandled feet could carry me.

Once inside, I drove the deadbolt home and ran to my bedroom, slamming the heavy metal door behind me and diving under the covers. I felt like a little girl hiding from the boogeyman. My breath came in ragged gasps and I felt clammy and cold, though the weather outside had been mild. I closed my eyes as my temples pounded. "What the hell was that path? Where did it lead to? Surely if it was something important, Eric or Ryan or someone would have mentioned it. It couldn't be related to that dream, could it? No, that's stupid. It was just a dream, it wasn't real, it was just a sex dream about Eric since you've had his blood." I mentally talked myself into a frenzy and tried desperately to calm myself back down. I focused on controlling my breathing since I felt like I was about to black out. Eric was coming later, I could just ask him about it. No big deal. I'm safe, I've got guards, the house is locked, nobody's coming for me. Why the fuck was I so worked up over a stupid ass path in the woods? I laid in bed until I gradually calmed down enough to think rationally about the situation. I pinched myself on the arm for being such a gullible idiot and stumbled over to my purse for some aspirin. After a trip to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, I grabbed a Coke from the kitchen and went to the office to check my e-mail. I was thrilled to see an e-mail from Bridget, but my excitement wore off when I read the contents of her e-mail.

_"Alice,_

_Thank you for contacting me so promptly. I appreciate your interest in my services and hope that we will be able to forge a mutually beneficial business relationship in the near future. I will pass along your contact information to my colleagues so that they too may reach you regarding similar ventures, as per your request. Please be advised that I will be leaving the country on business in the near future, so my services will be unavailable to you during this time. I will contact you with more information as soon as it is available to me._

_Sincerely,  
Bridget Chambers"_

It wasn't the fake business letter thing that was bothering me; that was how Bridget and I had always communicated since I ran away. By all appearances, the letter was nothing but a formal piece of correspondence between business associates, which was entirely plausible since Bridget now owned a small head shop near Canal Street and performed all kinds of random magic services for people. However, I knew the letter for what it really was. The beginning of it was basically sarcasm, chastising me for being out of touch with her for so long while she worried for my safety. She had apparently gone ahead and let everyone important know that I was alive and kicking like I asked, which was good. I had amassed a small but close group of friends down in NOLA and my biggest regret when I fled was leaving them behind. I was pleased with everything about the e-mail until the part about her going out of the country. A feigned business trip had always been our codename for trouble brewing.

I leaned back in the comfortable office chair and steepled my fingers beneath my chin as I pondered what kind of shit was going on. I figured it didn't directly involve Sophie Anne since Bridget hadn't mentioned her 'trusted colleague' Joan Crawford, our nickname for the Queen. We had watched Mommie Dearest one night and from then on out the name had just stuck. I thought about asking Eric to hook Bridget and I up with some disposable cell phones so that we could talk frankly and get everything out on the table. The codes and fake correspondences were great for checking in, but for any actual discussions they just tended to exacerbate matters. I tucked the thought into my mental filing cabinet and sent a quick e-mail back to Bridget, letting her know that I understood what was up and to be careful. I shut the computer back down with a sigh and went to my room to pick out something to wear for the evening. I really had no idea what Eric had planned for me, but I figured since I was technically going to be on the job, I should throw on something more than just crummy jeans and a t-shirt.

After rummaging through my closet and bureau for a while, I finally settled on a pair of skinny black pants with white pin stripes and a silky black button down shirt that had little silver skulls for buttons. I laid the clothing out on the bed along with some underwear and went to shower. The hot water and steam helped to scald away some of the tension that came from reading Bridget's e-mail. I had just stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me when I heard my cell phone ringing. I scurried to the bed where I had flung my phone and gasped when I saw it was Eric. The sun was barely starting to dip toward the horizon, what the hell was he doing awake?

"Hello?" I asked tentatively.

"Good afternoon Francesca," he purred. He sounded different than he usually did. The light accent I had noticed earlier was much more pronounced and he sounded very weary, like he was ready to pass out at any moment.

"Eric, what are you doing awake? That can't be good for you, can it?"

He chuckled lightly. "As I told you, I am old. The sun no longer commands me as it used to."

"Well, I still don't like it. You should be resting. Tell me what you need so you can get back to it."

"You are concerned for my well-being? I am touched."

"You're about to be hung up on if you don't cut to the chase."

When he spoke next, it sounded like he had a smile on his face. For some reason, I liked that I was able to make him smile. He said, "There has been a change of plans for this evening. Rather than me coming there to collect you, you will come to me at Fangtasia. Charles has been notified of the changes and will be there at first dark to escort you."

"Okay. Do I need to bring anything special?"

"Bring whatever you might need to aid in making humans more… pliable."

Now it was my turn to chuckle. "That's a mighty interesting way of putting it. I think I've got everything I need. Should be no problem."

"Good. Then I will see you in a couple of hours."

"Yep. Bye Eric."

"'Goodbye Francesca."

I put my phone into my clutch and got dressed, finishing my outfit with my spoon necklace and a pair of burgundy Doc Martens. I spritzed my hair with some spray gel and scrunched it into big curls that I pinned back from my face with red bobby pins. I lined my eyes and added some mascara and sheer pink gloss to my lips. I admired myself in the mirror for a moment before I grabbed my clutch and my duffel bag and went to my workroom to grab the stuff I needed to take to Fangtasia.

I knew exactly which spellbook I needed to take with me. I had used it often when casting spells on the humans in Sophie Anne's service. I set it in the bag and carefully made a pile of glass jars next to it: primrose, thyme, valerian root, and wormwood. I threw in some candles, yarn, a small bundle of silk cloth, eucalyptus oil, and a velvet-lined box of jet stones that Bridget had gotten me. I figured since I was going to be at Fangtasia, I might as well ward the place while I was there. The jet stones provided health, control, and luck as well as protection. They also provided virility, but I knew even from the little experience I had with Eric that he didn't need any help in that department. Once I was satisfied that I had everything I needed, I took the bag and set it by the front door. I still had a little time to kill before sunset so I went into the kitchen and made some macaroni and cheese. I ate slowly and tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever random tasks Eric was sure to ask of me. After I was finished, I cleaned everything up and found myself pacing around the living room. I wrung my hands nervously as I stared out the window at the waning sunlight. Ten minutes after the sun was below the horizon, a knock at the door startled me.

I grabbed my duffel bag and opened the door to see Charles at his usual post at the bottom of the steps, hands behind his back. I smiled at him.

"You really gotta stop acting so formal. We're friends, remember?"

He nodded slightly and I thought I saw one corner of his mouth upturn. "Yes, we are friends, but not when we're around Mr. Northman. As soon as we get to Fangtasia, I hate you, you hate me, and we're both ecstatic to not have to be around each other for the rest of the night. Can we agree to that?"

I put on my best fake stern face. "Oh, of course. I can hardly stand to be near you. Do you really have to drive me? I'd rather walk." He picked up my sarcasm and finally gave me a real grin and sighed dramatically.

"Let's go, Ms. Davies. Your employer awaits." He jerked his head in the direction of the garage and I followed him down the steps around to the Infiniti, which was pulled onto the driveway and waiting. I got into the passenger seat and threw my bag into the back. Charles was a very good driver, but as with every vampire I've ever known, he had a bit of a lead foot, especially around curves. I realized I was gripping the door handle so hard my knuckles were white, and gave him a nervous smile when he asked if I was okay. We were pulling around the back of Fangtasia before I knew it. As I went to get out, Charles made no move to come with me.

"You're not coming in?" I asked.

"No. My orders were to simply drop you off."

"How will I get back?"

"I imagine Mr. Northman will see to it that you are taken care of. I am to return the car to the house and resume my post." I noted his suddenly stuffy attitude and figured it was just in case any of Eric's lackeys were eavesdropping to make sure we weren't too chummy.

"Alright then. I guess I'll see you later, Charles. Thanks for the lift." I winked at him.

"Have a good evening, Ms. Davies." He winked back and sped off. I sighed and went in through the employee entrance. I knocked on the door of Eric's office, which was closed, but heard no movement inside and there was no answer. I ventured further into the club and saw Pam leaning up against the bar, her back to me, talking to the gaunt Native American bartender I had seen the first night I was there. She turned and faced me as she heard me approach. She was wearing a red velvet corset and a black latex skirt that hugged her petite frame all the way down to her ankles, where it flared out with a ruffle. I couldn't even begin to fathom how she managed to walk in it, but she had no problem sauntering over to me with a hand on her hip and a pout on her ruby lips.

"Well well well, look who it is. Now, is it Francesca Marx, or Francesca Davies? I know it's one of the two, you're in my vault, you see. I seem to remember your ID saying the former, but Eric tells me it's the latter. I tried to tell him you wouldn't be fucking stupid enough to give me a fake ID, considering how generous I was in letting you forego standing in that awful line…" she trailed off and stared at me with her head cocked to the side and one of her expertly manicured eyebrows raised defiantly, daring me to speak.

"I… uh… well, it's not like I'm underage, you know? So, I guess it technically was a fake ID, but not fake in the sense that you'd get in trouble for serving minors or whatever. Come on, I know Eric's told you all about me, you've gotta understand why I did it." I looked nervously down at my feet. I hoped my lame excuse was enough to placate her.

"I suppose I can understand why you'd use a fake alias given the circumstances. What I can't understand is why you thought it was a good idea to come to a fucking vampire bar when you're running away FROM. VAMPIRES." she enunciated the last two words loudly and sarcastically, like she was trying to pound through my thick skull just how huge of an idiot I am. I can't say I disagreed with her.

"But if I hadn't come in, I'd never have had the pleasure of meeting you!" I said in a saccharine lilt, giving her a wide smile and crazy eyes. Her expression softened a bit and she shifted her weight. I asked, "Speaking of Eric, where is he? I didn't see him in his office."

"He's mm…. grabbing a quick bite. Take a seat, he'll be here shortly." She smiled and licked her lips lasciviously before going behind the bar to put a True Blood in the microwave. I rolled my eyes and plopped down on a barstool. I ordered a Jack and Coke and fiddled with my phone while Pam and the bartender talked in hushed tones in the corner. I tried not to focus on the fact that Eric was out probably getting busy with some random fangbanger – after all, I'd just seen Michael the night before, what right did I have to be jealous? Still, I couldn't shake my annoyance. I decided to give Eric the cold shoulder when he came in, which was about ten minutes after I finished my second drink.

I was playing Candy Crush Saga on my phone when I felt a large, icy hand against my lower back. I yelped and whipped around to face Eric, who looked effortlessly handsome in a ribbed black tank top, black jeans, and steel toed boots. His hair was tucked behind his ears in a way that made him look boyish and playful, but I'd never tell him that. He grinned at my reaction and put his hands in his pockets.

"Francesca, how wonderful it is to see you. I have been looking forward to our meeting all week."

I remembered the vow I had made earlier to keep him at arm's length. I tried to be cordial, but not overly friendly. I wasn't in the mood to joke around with him knowing he had been in another woman's arms just minutes before. "Eric, good to see you as well. How may I serve you this evening?" I cringed when I realized I had just used the same line that I used to say to the Queen. Well, she demanded that I say it, really. There were always courtiers and vamp diplomats from other states visiting, and she wanted to project an air of importance, so she made me kowtow to her like a common servant. In all my humanity, I suppose that's exactly what I had been.

Eric's good humor withered at my humorless greeting. He eyed me suspiciously before gesturing to the bartender to get me another drink. "Are you feeling well?" he asked skeptically, clearly not pleased with my reluctance to return his flirtations.

"I feel fine, thank you. What have you got for me tonight?" the smirk returned to his face and I realized I had just talked myself into another corner. "I mean as far as work goes, of course, since that's why I'm here," I added before he could work in any of his lame innuendoes. His smirk vanished as quickly as it had appeared and was replaced with a strange mix of disappointment and confusion. He clearly couldn't work out why I was being so distant and wasn't accustomed to having women do anything other than fawn all over him. I sipped my drink quietly and stared at my phone, waiting for him to respond.

"I have a human business associate of mine meeting us here in fifteen minutes. I plan to procure her assistance with important Area matters through her companion, who is in my retinue, but there is no love lost between him and I so I cannot fully trust either of them. This is unacceptable. Since she cannot be glamored, you will make her loyal and honest."

I wrinkled my nose. "If you can't trust her or glamor her, why bother? What do you need her assistance with? Surely she's not the only person in the world who can help you."

He leveled me with a cold gaze. "That is of no concern to you. You will do this. I will speak to them out here in the bar and you will complete your work out of sight in my office. They cannot know you are here." I raised an eyebrow at him as I finished my drink.

"So you want me to manipulate someone without them knowing about it?" His expression told me our discussion was nearing its end. He clearly wasn't interested in divulging any more information about this mysterious woman or why he needed her help, and I wasn't stupid enough to push him, especially while we were on his turf. "Fine," I huffed, "but I need to know her name for the spell."

"Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse."

"Sookie? What kind of name is that?"

He glared at me. "Do it."

"Okay okay. I better go set up." I grabbed my bag and followed him back to his office. He unlocked the door and let me in, and stood in the doorway watching me as I set up reagents on his desk.

"What's that?" he asked as I took out the box of jet stones.

"Jet. For protection. I figured I might as well ward the place while I'm here. Is that okay?"

He nodded and pointed at the jars I had lined up. "And those?"

"Primrose, thyme, valerian, wormwood. To promote loyalty and honesty and discourage any violent acts. Miss Stackhouse will feel compelled to be completely forthcoming with you at all times, and it will never cross her mind to deceive or lie to you for any reason. When she works with you, your best interests will always be at the forefront of her consciousness, but she won't be able to explain why she is so concerned for you. It will all seem very natural and right to her."

Eric seemed impressed, but somewhat skeptical. "You can guarantee this?"

Against my better judgment, I gave him a small smile. "On my honor as a witch."

Eric smirked and was about to say something when his attention was drawn out to the bar. I assumed his guests had arrived because he nodded at me pointedly before quickly leaving and shutting the door behind him. I decided to give him a couple minutes to schmooze before I started in with the spell, so I sat down in his cushy office chair and waited. As I sat there, I got the strangest feeling. It felt like there was something trying to get into my brain. Like my head was a room only big enough for me to stand in, but someone else was trying to squish their way in anyway. I closed my eyes tightly and concentrated on the sensation, trying to push back against the invisible force with my mind. Suddenly, I heard a commotion out in the bar and the door burst open. Pam came over and grabbed my arm roughly.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed.

"The so-called jig is up, they know you're here. You are to politely introduce yourself as a business associate of Eric's and say that you were waiting in his office for him to conclude his meeting. Speak when spoken to, do not fuck this up," she whispered angrily as she drug me through the back hallway toward the bar area. When we got to the bar she flung me over in Eric's direction and took her place back behind the bar.

I smoothed my shirt and walked casually over to the booth where Eric was seated with two other people. I tried to look like I belonged there, like it was just a coincidence that I was there to meet with Eric, rather than to manipulate some poor woman into being his thrall. I was somewhat taken aback when I reached the table. Of course Eric was there, looking properly bored and aloof, and across from him was seated a prim looking vamp with neatly parted dark brown hair and old-fashioned sideburns. I could see he was wearing a tucked-in polo shirt, khakis, and loafers. He looked like he belonged on the cover of an L.L. Bean catalogue. That wasn't what shocked me, however. I had seen plenty of vamps that dressed even more conservatively than he. What really surprised me was the woman sitting next to the dark vampire. She had straight honey blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and a pretty but sufficiently plain face. She was wearing a cornflower blue sundress with little white daisies and strappy silver sandals that accentuated her shapely legs. So this was Sookie Stackhouse, huh? As I approached the booth, she turned her head to look at me and as soon as our eyes met, the strange tingling invading sensation entered my brain again. I stopped in my tracks and fought back against the force, and a small look of shock registered on the woman's face when I successfully pushed it out of my brain. I realized then that it was she who was trying to enter my head. That must have been how they knew I was back in the office; she had _felt_ me. I was instantly furious, but stopped myself from saying something I'd later regret when I saw Eric give me a pointed look in my peripheral vision. I continued making my way to the table and stood next to Eric.

Eric reached for my hand and I gave it to him. He clasped it gently and kissed my knuckles, looking up into my eyes as he did so. I fought the urge to roll my eyes and instead smiled shyly instead as I figured he wanted me to. "Bill, Sookie, this is my associate Alice Reeves. Alice, meet Bill Compton and Sookie Stackhouse."

"Mr. Compton, Ms. Stackhouse, it is a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid I was not aware of your meeting this evening. I was just waiting in the office while you all talked business, I did not mean to interrupt." I smiled politely at Bill who nodded back at me, but I put a little ice into my gaze as it flickered to Sookie. I could tell she knew that I knew, because she at least had the decency to look embarrassed at being caught. She nodded slightly and stared down at her lap.

"I will leave you to it now, unless there's something else I can do for you?" I asked Eric gently, smiling at him. Warmth flickered through his eyes as he regarded me, I could tell he was pleased with my subservient, polite behavior. "No, Alice, that will be all." he said, and finally let go of my hand. To put the cherry on top, I bowed respectfully to him and smiled again to his guests before turning and strolling casually back to the office. I shut the door behind me and made sure to lock it this time before I went to work.

I took a piece of the blue silk cloth and created a little bundle of the herbs within it. I tied the satchel shut with a length of blue yarn and saturated the entire thing with the eucalyptus oil, then set it on the floor. I knelt beside the bundle and lit a blue candle and held it up in front of me. I closed my eyes and tilted my face to the ceiling as I chanted. "Iam non occultus. Malum non loquere. Sookie Stackhouse, fideles in omnibus Eric Northman. Omnia sibi debere eius est, eius auxilium in omnibus rebus. Qui dea matre, rogo autem te." I took the candle and lit the yarn on fire. The highly flammable oil caused the entire satchel to go up in flames and the room was filled with the strong smell of eucalyptus and herbs. The talisman around my neck flared hot against my skin as it worked its magic along with my own. The familiar invisible gust of wind entered the office and fluttered the papers strewn about on Eric's desk as it extinguished the small pyre on the floor. Just like that, it was done. I threw the remains of the satchel into the trash and unlocked the door before I sat back in Eric's chair and kicked my feet up on the desk. I let my phone distract me while I waited for the meeting out in the bar to be over.

Another fifteen minutes or so passed before the door burst open and Eric was standing there in the entry way, looking at me with a mix of amusement and lust on his face.

"What?" I asked, concentrating back on my phone.

"It worked." he said huskily, not even trying to hide the mood he was in.

"Of course it worked, I told you it would." I rolled my eyes. Did he really think I had no idea what I was doing? I took my feet off the desk and turned the chair to finally meet his gaze. "Is everything to your satisfaction then?"

"Almost everything." Before I knew it he was on his knees in front of me, caging me into the chair with his broad chest and muscular arms. His hair hung like a silk drape around his face as he came closer and closer to me until our faces were mere inches apart. "You were magnificent tonight, Francesca," he purred, his eyes boring into mine like sapphire lasers.

"Thank you, Eric," I responded, making a conscious effort to keep my voice level. I gulped audibly. "Would you like me to ward the property now?"

"It can wait." He leaned forward then and caught my lips with his, working them open with his expert tongue so he could taste me. A small nagging voice in the back of my head told me I should be thinking about Michael, but all I could really focus on was how much I wanted Eric to bend me over his desk and take me from behind. It was Eric who finally broke our kiss and I wasn't prepared for what he said next.

"We will exchange blood again tonight. Finish your work here and I will see you home."

"Why tonight?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not? You had other plans, I suppose. With Charles perhaps?" The nerve of this fucking guy! He goes out and fucks some fangbanger, then comes here to flirt with me, treats me like dirt when I don't respond the way he wants me to, then accuses me of messing around with one of the guards. I was fed up.

"Yes, exactly. Charles and I are an item now, don't you know? Wait, you wouldn't, since I haven't seen you all god damn week, not to mention that you were late this evening because you were balls deep in some groupie slut and god only kn-" faster than I could register, his hand whipped out and caught my jaw, applying just enough pressure that I couldn't speak. I winced and tried to pull my head away but that only caused him to grip harder.

"You forget yourself, Francesca. I am in charge here. You are in my Area, in my bar, in my office, living in my house, getting paid with my money. I didn't want to have to do this, but I can see I have no choice. Just remember that your actions have forced my hand here." I had no idea what he meant by that but I soon found out when he began to look at me intently, meeting my eyes with an unblinking stare. My mind began to feel foggy and I knew instantly that he was trying to glamor me. I guessed that I had two options: pretend he was really influencing me, or let him know that similar to Ms. Stackhouse, I couldn't be glamored. In general I wasn't a very good actress so I decided to just let him know.

I nodded my head defiantly, which caused him to loosen his grip enough for me to talk. "That's not going to work," I said quietly, trying to let him down gently. His brow furrowed instantly and he shoved my head against the cushy back of the chair.

"How are you resisting me? Is it a spell?"

"No," I admitted, "I've just always been this way. No attempts by any vampire to glamor me have ever been successful. I can feel you in my brain trying to take the reins, but it just doesn't work. Kinda ironic, considering what you just had me do to Ms. Stackhouse and why, huh?"

He growled at that. He actually growled. "You are beginning to be far more trouble than you are worth."

"You think so? I thought you said I was magnificent tonight. Trust me, that was only a sample of what I'm capable of – just a parlor trick, really. I could have had her on her knees kissing your boots if I really wanted to. She'd have licked the dirt from them while her stuffy boyfriend sat there and watched. You haven't even begun to witness my worth."

He regarded me silently for a moment, still holding my jaw. I felt his thumb gently trace my lips and when he finally spoke, most of the ice was gone from his voice, but a bit was still there, intermingling with amusement.

"You are very entertaining, Francesca. Unfortunately for you, I have not changed my mind. Get your things and I will take you back to the house. There, we will exchange blood. Maybe I will even let your little guard friend watch." He stood then, and went to lean back against the doorframe while I gathered my reagents and re-packed my duffel bag. I shot him annoyed looks the entire time and knew I was acting like a petulant child, but didn't care. When I was ready to go, he took me by the shoulder and led me out to the parking lot where a shiny red Corvette waited. I rolled my eyes. Of _course_ he drove a Corvette.

Surprisingly, he led me to the passenger side and opened my door for me. I reluctantly took his hand for leverage as I slunk down into the low bucket seat. The ride back to the house was peacefully silent except for the low din of music coming from the flashy sound system. I kept my eyes focused on the road and refused to look at him, though I thought I could sense him stealing glances my way every now and then. When Eric finally turned into the long lane up to the house, he was let through the gate without a moment's hesitation and I couldn't see who was working the guard house tonight. It struck me as odd that I had never met any of the other vamp guards besides Charles, in fact it kind of creeped me out. My thoughts were interrupted as we stopped by the house and Eric came around to help me out of the car. Much to my annoyance, he refused to let go of my hand as he led me up to the front door and fished a key out of his pocket. He tried to drag me to the bedroom, but I resisted as much as I could.

"Will you please fucking wait? I want to put my things away first," I said angrily. He grunted and pushed me toward the workroom. He watched me as I put all of my reagents away, and a split second after I had put my spellbook back on the shelf, he was on me again. Or rather, I was on him, since he had picked me up from behind and was carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of flour in the direction of the bedroom.

"Oh, cool, this is great. I totally like being carried around like a ragdoll. You sure know how to treat a lady," I huffed as he dropped me down roughly on the bed. Before I could say anything else, he was peeling off his tank top and my words caught in my throat as I raked my eyes over the perfect sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen. He was so beautiful it was almost painful. Since he hadn't bothered to turn a lamp on, the only light I had to admire him with was the moonlight streaming through the gauzy curtains, but it somehow only added to his ghastly appeal. His hair was molten white gold that dripped down his shoulders onto his biceps, his eyes panther-like as he caught me admiring him and seemed to enjoy my attentions. He stalked toward me hungrily and I scurried back on the bed, thumping my shoulder blades painfully against the headrest. He knelt on the bed then and crawled toward me on all fours like the predator that he was, stopping when our faces were close like he had done earlier in his office.

"Are you afraid?" he asked quietly. He planted his hand on my ankle and moved it up slowly until it was resting on my thigh.

"Maybe," I answered honestly.

"You should be. I have walked this Earth for over a thousand years, do you know that? I am the oldest vampire in Louisiana. I could rip your head off of your shoulders with one hand if I wanted to." He said this nonchalantly, like he was reminding me to pick up milk and eggs at the store.

I gulped. "Do you want to?"

He smirked then. "No. This is what I keep trying to make you understand. There are thousands of horrible things that I could have done to you by now, if I truly desired them. But I have not. Why?"

"I don't know. Why?"

He didn't answer me. While his hand rested on my thigh, he took his other hand and brought it to my face, cupping my jaw gently much unlike the way he had done at Fangtasia. He was again on his knees before me, and I found the situation overwhelming. My emotions got the best of me and I couldn't stop what I said next.

"You are so beautiful. Frightening and beautiful." I reached out to touch his corn silk hair, running my fingers through its length.

"Beautiful? Men are not beautiful." he sounded almost offended that I would use that word to describe him.

I smiled at him then. "None of the other adjectives apply to you. You're too old to be 'hot'." He grimaced at that, which made me laugh quietly. I continued, "You're too intense to be 'good looking,' and far too conceited to just be 'attractive.' 'Handsome' is reserved for guys like Cary Grant, and I've never met anyone I'd call 'dashing' that wears steel toed boots." He smiled back at me then, and moved to kiss me. I let him.

I scooted down in the bed until I was laying down with him hovering atop me, resting just enough of his weight on me that I could feel the chill of his naked chest radiating through my shirt. He had fistfuls of my hair in either hand, holding my head to the bed while he teased my mouth with his. He would kiss me passionately and then draw back just enough that I couldn't reach him, taking the opportunity to bite my bottom lip or lick the tip of my nose. He kissed my eyelids and my earlobes and nipped at my neck. I groaned as he traced my collarbone with the point of his tongue and blew over it gently, causing my skin to prickle.

"Look at me, Francesca," he rasped. I hadn't even realized my eyes were closed. My eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead and I struggled to pry them open. The cerulean pools of his eyes were gazing down at me with an intensity I had never seen before. I reached to touch his face then, I was so moved by the way he was watching me. For the first time since I had been brought here, I felt safe. Sure, I had guards watching me 'round the clock, but I had still always felt like I had to watch my back, like Sophie Anne's guards would be hiding in the bathroom when I woke up, waiting to gut me while I brushed my teeth. I stared into Eric's eyes for what seemed like hours, neither of us saying anything, the only movement being my thumb against his cheek.

He finally broke the silence. "Yield to me," he said, grinding his pelvis against mine for effect. I stifled a moan and pulled his head closer to mine so I could kiss him. While our tongues battled, I created a sort of mental pros-and-cons list of sleeping with Eric. On one hand, I knew it would be amazing, and it would probably be a good idea to get rid of some of the sexual tension we had both been carrying around. On the other hand, he was technically my boss, and he was infuriating and obnoxious, and I had just slept with Michael the night before.

Oh shit. Michael. What the fuck was I doing? I was acting no better than the fangbangers I so despised who crawled their pathetic asses into Fangtasia night after night, praying for ten minutes with anything with a set of fangs. I was so lost in my guilty conscience I hadn't even noticed Eric had begun to unbutton my shirt. I took my hand from his face and stopped him.

"I can't. We can't do this," I squeaked pathetically. A flash of confusion and annoyance rippled across his face, but it was quickly gone.

"Why? We both want this. I can _feel_ you, Francesca. Your desire is burning us both alive. Let us douse the flames." Normally I'd have scoffed at such a lame line, but in that moment it didn't seem lame to me. All it did was turn me on even more.

"You aren't alive," I retorted, hoping to change the subject. He bent to kiss my neck again before he spoke, looking deep into my eyes as he did. I wasn't expecting what came next.

"You make me feel like I am. You make me feel things I have not felt in nearly a millennium. You confuse me, you frustrate me, you surprise me, you challenge me. It was very hard to stay away from you this week. I gave you my word that I wouldn't call on you until tonight, but you were the first thing I thought of every eve that I rose."

"Eric…" I started, but he bent to take my lips in a rough kiss before I could finish. When he pulled back, I spoke.

"Eric, I don't understand. You don't know me, I don't know you."

"I want to know you. Does that sound strange to you? Because it confuses the hell out of me. I have relied on humans for nothing but sex and sustenance for as long as I can remember. Why are you so different?"

"I'm not. I'm just me, I swear." He was starting to scare me. Where was he going with all of this? Was he just trying to butter me up so I'd be more willing to exchange blood with him? If that was the case, it was really unnecessary and cruel since I'd already resigned myself to the fact that we'd eventually be bound.

He gazed down at me tenderly and brushed my hair back from my face. "Francesca, you _are_ different. You are so different, I find myself at a loss with what to do with you. You are unlike any woman I have ever met before." His tenderness was so unexpected, I found myself believing everything he had said. It was like having an out-of-body experience: I could see myself doing what I did next, but I didn't feel like I was in control of my actions.

I turned my head to kiss his palm, exposing my neck. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "Drink," I said.

"Francesca…" he said hesitantly. His face wore an expression that I couldn't quite place.

"Drink, Eric. I want you to." I reached up and grabbed the back of his head, pulling it toward my neck. He nuzzled the crook of my neck and kissed it gently. I laced my fingers through his hair and held him as he bit.

My senses were flooded with ecstasy as he drew on the wound, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning into his hair - his beautiful golden hair that splayed over my face and chest as he gorged himself on my blood. I reached for his nearby wrist and bit into it savagely, grinding my teeth against his cool flesh until I felt it give way and his ancient, decadent blood spilled into my mouth. He groaned as he continued to feed from me, and I could feel our tie getting stronger with each mouthful of blood that we took from each other. As the wound on his wrist closed, he let go of my neck and claimed my lips roughly. Both of our mouths were ugly red smears as our blood co-mingled in our frenzied kiss. The metallic tang of it filled the air, and I struggled to stay lucid. We continued to lazily mesh our tongues together until both of our respective blood lusts had died down. Eric bent his head down and licked at my neck, sealing the wounds. I took note that he made no move to heal them. He was still laying over me, resting most of his weight on his forearms.

I made a gesture with my hand and he seemed to catch on – he rolled a bit so he was laying on his side on the bed, his legs intertwined with mine, and rested his head on my chest. He drew circles on my stomach with his strong, deft fingers, and I smoothed his silky tresses across his bare back. Somehow, the tension I had acquired from everything that had happened that night finally disappeared, and without even realizing it I drifted off to sleep, still clothed and wearing my boots, with a thousand year old vampire curled up over me like an old tomcat.


	10. Träumst Du?

_[[[[[ "What progress have you made?" a flat, humorless voice finally asked from behind me. I had heard him enter the room minutes earlier but refused to acknowledge his presence until now. _

_Without turning to look at him, I replied, "I'd make more if I wasn't constantly interrupted." I had been working on Sophie Anne's crazy necromancy spells for days now, barely finding time to sleep or eat with the strict deadlines she'd given me. I had called in all kinds of exotic reagents from all over the world, conferred with numerous other witches, and spent hours at a time hunched over spellbook after spellbook until my eyes refused to focus and my temples pounded mercilessly from the tension._

_Suddenly I felt his cold hand against my neck, gripping it roughly. In my surprise, I dropped the glass jar of Solomon's Seal I had been holding and the tiny white blooms scattered across the black marble floor. I tried to bend to gather them up, but Andre refused to let me go. Instead, he tightened his grip and whirled me around to face him._

"_Your Queen demands results within the next twenty-four hours or you will have to be dealt with accordingly. Sometimes I think you lag behind on purpose just so you can feel my hand against your sweet little ass. Is that right, Frankie? Do you enjoy it when I punish you?" He reached around to grab my backside then, digging in painfully with the tips of his fingers. I knew there would be bruises the next day. There always were, after he was finished 'interrupting' me. I bit my bottom lip to keep from yelping – he loved it when I vocalized my discomfort and shame, and I did whatever I could to stop him deriving pleasure from me._

"_Andre, please. Let me work. I'm so close to being able to give Her Majesty what she wants, just a few more hours and I know she'll be happy with my work. Tell her that when she wakes from her slumber tonight, I will have exactly what she has asked for and more," I simpered. I was actually telling the truth – since I had received a shipment of exotic herbs from Haiti that afternoon, I had everything I needed for the spell. I just had to practice and meditate for a while, and hopefully get some sleep, so that I was able to perform effectively for her. _

"_What a servile little creature you are, so eager to please. You like to make the Queen happy, don't you, Francesca?" he purred in a saccharine lilt laced with venom. I nodded, too scared and exhausted to speak any more._

"_Mmm yes, I know you do," he continued, still kneading my behind roughly and tracing my collarbone with his other hand. "You try so hard, but you're still not very good at it, are you? You're just a fraction of the witch your grandmother was; you're lucky the Queen is such a benevolent and fair ruler. A lesser monarch would have thrown you out on the street by now. You should be on your knees with gratitude." I felt tears spring to my eyes like they always did – I knew what was coming. The hand that had been grabbing my ass was now on my shoulder, and I was roughly being pushed to the floor. I muffled a groan as my knees hit the hard marble beneath me, and my eyes rolled back in my head as Andre grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back so I was gazing up at him._

_As usual, a sneer decorated his face. I remembered how handsome I had thought he was when I first met him – his square jaw, the thick, fair hair that was cut to make him look older than the teenager he had been when Sophie Anne turned him. I had been strangely drawn to him at first, perhaps it had been some kind of taboo attraction to his varsity quarterback appearance, but now all I saw was a cold, remorseless, inhuman monster. He was the most hideous thing I had ever seen. His voice cut through my thoughts like a knife._

"_Go on then, let us see how grateful you are." He glared down at me as I reached my trembling hands toward the zipper of his pants. I could feel his erection through the expensive material of his slacks and it disgusted me. All he had done was insult and abuse me and just like that he was ready to go. I drew a deep breath and took his cock out of his pants, stroking it roughly like I knew he preferred. I averted my eyes to the ceiling as I continued to touch him until he jerked my head angrily and I again met his gaze._

"_This is your fault. If you insist upon provoking me with your ineptitude, then you must take responsibility for your actions, yes?" I nodded weakly and he fisted both of his hands into my hair, pushing my face toward his cock. I closed my eyes as I wrapped my mouth around his length, and gagged when he forced himself down my throat. I coughed and sputtered as he fucked my mouth and grabbed his thighs for support so he didn't knock me over with his thrusts. My knees ached as they banged against the hard stone floor with each buck of his hips, and I felt spittle run down my chin while I breathed heavily through my nose, concentrating on not passing out or throwing up. I knelt there for what felt like an eternity as he pulled my hair and called me a slut while he used me. He finally came with a growl and I felt his cool seed slide down my throat, soothing the bruises he had caused. When he pushed my head away, I went to get a towel so I could clean him off like I was supposed to – the first time he had forced me to taste him, I had just sat there dazed afterwards, and he backhanded me so hard I couldn't chew on the left side of my mouth for a week. I returned and knelt before him while I cleaned him and tucked him back into his slacks. He left me there like that, on the floor. I curled into a ball and cried for a while, then crawled around on my hands and knees and picked up the white flowers I had spilled earlier and put them into a new glass jar. ]]]]]_

Everything was black. I was very disoriented, from the awful dream I had just had, and from the fact that I couldn't see what was two inches in front of my face. It hadn't been a dream, really, it had been a memory. All of those awful things had really happened and the sad thing was, that particular instance hadn't even been the worst of what I'd had to endure in the Queen's service. I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and accidentally elbowed something cold and hard. I stuck a tentative hand into the darkness and realized there was someone in bed with me. I flailed around and reached for the bedside lamp, and gasped when I saw Eric lying next to me on his back, his hair fanned over the pillow like spun gold. I was struck by how utterly peaceful he looked, his forehead unlined, his strong brows unfurrowed, his full lips a crimson slash across his pale stone skin.

I lifted the sheet gingerly to find him wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs and smiled at the thought of what lay beneath them. Then I looked down at myself and saw that I too was in only my underwear – he must have undressed me. I recalled what had transpired last night, and searched within myself for the familiar pulse of the now twice-enforced blood tie. It wasn't as strong as I knew it would be once we exchanged blood for the third and final time, but it was there nonetheless; at the moment it was just a static hum since Eric was asleep, but I anticipated that once he rose I would be able to sense his consciousness and feelings to a small degree. I also remembered all of the kind and sweet things he had said to me, about how I made him feel, and I reached out to caress his cheek softly. I still wasn't sure if I believed all of it, but it had made my insides tingle to hear him say it. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and saw that it was almost noon and that was when I noticed the heavy steel shutters over the windows. Finally the metal door and dark hallway beyond made sense; Eric had lightproofed this room. I stretched and made my way to the bathroom where I showered and dressed in a pair of black denim shorts and a green tank top. When I headed to the kitchen to start some coffee, I saw one of Eric's familiar notes propped up against the coffee machine.

"_Most beautiful Francesca,_

_You will be accompanying me to Fangtasia again tonight to "influence" the human wait staff, so plan accordingly. I have left instructions with my dayman, Bobby, to bring some of my things here as soon as you contact him. Please call him when you wake._

_Have a pleasant day._

_Eric"_

I couldn't stop from smiling at the fact he had called me beautiful. While the coffee was brewing, I grabbed my phone and called the number that Eric had programmed into my phone. It rang twice.

"Ms. Davies?" He sounded annoyed that I was calling, like he had much better things to do than talk to me. What an ass. I disliked him immediately.

"Yes, is this Bobby?"

"Yes. Mr. Northman gave me orders to bring some of his things out to the house. Will you be there to receive them?"

"Yeah, I'll be here all day. When can I expect you?" I didn't like his attitude one bit so I was trying to be as frigid as I could without just doing away with all the pretense and calling him a douche to his face.

"I am on my way now, I should be there within the hour."

"Okay, I suppose I'll see you in a bit then."

"Yes. Goodbye." He hung up before I could respond. Wow. I hoped there was some secret special thing that Bobby was super great at for Eric to keep him around, because I'd met wet dishrags with more personality. I stared at my phone in disbelief for a moment before I shook my head and made some French toast and eggs. I took my time eating and was just finishing my third cup of coffee when there was a brisk knock at the door. I peered through the stained glass and saw a stocky middle-aged man dressed all in black, wearing a scowl and running his fingers through his thinning hair. I could see he was holding a black duffel bag in one hand, and had a garment bag draped over his other arm. I opened the door and invited him in with a smile that he made no move to return.

"Bobby, nice to meet you, I'm Frankie."

"Yes Ms. Davies, Mr. Northman has told me all about you, and informed me that I am to be at your beck and call. So I am obligated to ask you, is there anything I can do for you while I am here?" he asked me scornfully as he bustled past me into the living room so he could set Eric's things down on one of the couches. He took a moment to mop his brow with a handkerchief. I wrinkled my nose in disgust – it wasn't even hot outside.

"No, I wouldn't want to trouble you with anything, you look very busy. I'll try to keep my becks and calls to a minimum," I said snidely. "For both our sakes," I added mentally. He attempted what I guess was supposed to be a smile, but more closely resembled a sour grimace.

"Very well. Then I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Ms. Davies." I didn't even make a move to see him out. I just flopped down onto the couch next to Eric's things and waved at him lazily. "Later Bobby," I called as I heard the front door shut. Jerk.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. I did some laundry, swept and mopped the kitchen floor, made a batch of peanut butter cookies, and had a glass of wine on the porch while I read more of the Norse book. As the sun dipped toward the horizon, I went to my workroom and started packing my bag with the same things I had used on Ms. Stackhouse. As I rummaged around the shelves, my thoughts drifted to the odd woman. What was she? Obviously she wasn't your average human, if she was even human at all. Eric seemed convinced that she was, however. Either that, or he was trying to conceal her true nature from me and hoped that I wouldn't have an occasion to find out he was hiding something. Well, that had backfired. I didn't like how possessive he had seemed over her, either, like she was more to him than just a 'business associate' as he had put it. Come to think of it, that was how he had introduced me to them, too.

I sighed. Eric was extremely confusing. Did he have feelings for this Stackhouse woman? If he wanted to fuck her, why did he say all of those lovely fuzzy things to me the night before? Now that said events had transpired, where did that put me with Michael? He probably wouldn't want anything to do with me once he found out how close I had been to sleeping with Eric. With a frown, I finished packing my bag and went to set it on the couch with Eric's things. I saw that it was nearly dark now, and I apprehensively padded back down the hall to the bedroom. I slipped in and was somehow comforted by Eric's still, pale form against the black silk sheets, illuminated by the lamp I had left on. I sat on the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard with my legs stretched out in front of me. It wasn't long before he began to stir. I actually felt his mind awaken before I saw him move. It felt like I had brushed against a live wire, and crackling electricity was coursing through my mind as he was quickly up on his knees next to me, a smirk on his face.

"Hello," I said timidly.

"Hello," he replied confidently. He looked ready to pounce.

"Did you rest well?"

"Yes. Did you?"

I hesitated, recalling the ugly Andre memory-dream. "Yes," I said lamely. He looked skeptical.

"Why don't I believe you?" he reached to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"I don't know. Do I look like I'm lying?"

"Yes," he admitted with a grin. I smiled back. "I had a bad dream, is all. No big deal."

"What did you dream of?" I looked down at my hands in my lap. "You don't want to hear about it. It's depressing and vile." He put a finger underneath my chin and raised my face to meet his gaze. "Tell me," he urged.

"It was about Andre. About the things he used to do to me. Well, the things he made me do to him, I guess. I don't think about him often anymore when I'm awake, but he comes to me through my dreams when I least expect it. Sometimes I wish I really could be glamored, to make all of those shitty memories disappear."

He looked sad for me then, and I couldn't stand it. I didn't want anyone to pity me, least of all him. I slid to the edge of the bed and stood up abruptly. "Bobby brought your things, they're out on the couch. Can I ask you a question?" He nodded. I said, "Why do you bother with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's a fucking prick. The whole time he was here, he looked at me like I was some kind of leper. He probably went out to his car and used an entire bottle of hand sanitizer after he left."

Eric shrugged. "I have heard that he can be abrasive, but he is endlessly loyal to me, efficient, and good at what he does." I rolled my eyes at that. "Whatever you say," I huffed. I gestured to what I was wearing and asked if he wanted me to change.

"It would probably be for the best that you blend in as much as possible. Last night we left the club before it opened, but you will be there later tonight, mingling with the customers."

I sighed loudly. "Why do I have to hang out with all those lame fangbangers? I thought I was just gonna work over the human staff and get out of there."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You will be there because I told you to be there. Need I remind you who's in charge here?"

"Of course not. It's your world Eric, I'm just living in it." With that, I went to the bureau and began rummaging through it, trying to find something suitably flashy to wear to the club. I heard Eric get up a short moment later and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding when I heard the bathroom door click shut.

I eventually settled on a black leather corset that buckled up the front and an emerald green velvet mini skirt with a brocade pattern. I put on some fashionably ripped fishnets and a pair of knee high lace-up boots with a three inch platform sole and put my hair into pigtails. The only jewelry I wore was my spoon necklace and a small silver ring in my nostril. I knew I'd have to wait for Eric to get done in the shower before I could get into the bathroom to put some makeup on, so I sat on the bed and waited for him. Five minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Eric strutted into the room wearing nothing but a towel loosely tied around his trim waist. Steam billowed out around him and I could smell him from across the room – clean and masculine. His hair was wet and combed straight back from his face. I lazily edged off the bed and met him halfway across the room. I tried not to take notice of the glistening beads of water rolling down his perfectly sculpted chest.

"Well?" I asked. "How's this? Think I'll score some free drinks?"

"Oh, most definitely," he said with a grin. I smiled coyly and maneuvered around him into the bathroom so I could do my makeup. I put on some eyeliner and mascara and a bit of pink blush and nude lipgloss. When I was done primping, I returned to the bedroom to find Eric gone. The only evidence he had been there was his wet towel lying in a soggy lump on the floor. I grunted in annoyance as I bent to pick it up and tossed it in the hamper. I definitely did not have plans to make picking up after him a habit. I went out into the living room and found him dressed in his signature black jeans and tank top. He was sitting on the couch talking on the phone in that weird language again, one of his long arms stretched out over the back of the sofa and his legs crossed on the coffee table. He looked like he owned the place. Well, I guess technically he did. I sat across from him on the other couch and began to fidget with my skirt when I realized he was watching me. I met his gaze and he winked. I quickly looked away.

"You are ready?" he asked when he was finally done on the phone. I nodded and stood up and he led me over to the door. I grabbed my bag and let him steer me with his hand on the small of my back down the stairs and to his waiting Corvette. He opened the door for me and helped me in, which was actually more of a burden than a help since I was sure he was ogling my thighs and ass as I tried to fold myself into the tiny red can opener of a car. We made it to Fangtasia without incident and entered through the back door. I could hear glasses clinking and the low rumble of chatter as Eric led me into his office. He sat behind his desk and I perched on the corner of it while he booted up his computer.

"So what's on the agenda tonight, Boss?" I asked.

"I will have members of my human staff come back here one by one and you will cast your spells on them. This time we needn't worry about concealing you; it is written into all of their contacts that I may take whatever means I deem necessary to ensure their compliance with my rules."

I scrunched my face at this. "Is that even legal?"

He feigned shock and put his hand to his chest. "Francesca, you wound me. Of course it is legal. The documents were drafted by my lawyer. The same lawyer who wrote the contract you signed, as a matter of fact."

"Whatever you say, Master." I rolled my eyes and hopped off the corner of the desk so I could start getting my things ready. He chuckled behind me and began typing away on his computer. The spell I would be using tonight was basically the same one I had used on Sookie, just a less intense version. I was lining up my glass herb jars when the door flew open. I yelped with surprised and nearly dropped the jar I was holding. Pam stood in the doorway, a crooked grin on her face.

"Pamela, you know how I loathe it when you don't knock first," Eric drawled uninterestedly. I didn't think his eyes had even left the computer screen.

"Forgive me, Master, but I forgot. My excitement got the best of me, I'm afraid." she was bouncing up and down on her heels now, like a rabid Chihuahua dancing for a treat. Somehow I didn't think it would be wise to mention the comparison to her.

"Excitement? Do tell." He still hadn't looked at her, but I had seen the envelope clutched in one of her perfectly manicured hands. I wondered what was in it.

"Our dear friend Alice Reeves got a letter today." At that, Eric's head whipped toward Pam and he finally eyed what she was holding.

"I did? From whom?" I asked cautiously. I hadn't had a chance to give that alias to many people yet. I walked the short distance over to Pam and reached for the letter.

Pam settled her gaze on me and flashed me a fangy grin. "From another of our dear friends. Sookie Stackhouse." She let me slip the envelope from her hand then, and Eric growled behind me. I didn't like that. A sick feeling in the pit of my stomach reminded me of my earlier suspicions that he was carrying a torch for her. I shot him an angry look and opened the letter despite the fact that I could tell he wanted to vault over the desk and rip it in half.

"_Dear Alice,_

_My name is Sookie Stackhouse and we met there at the bar last night. I hope you get this letter, I wasn't sure where else to send it. I suppose you probably won't have any problems remembering me, considering what I did to you. I'd like to apologize for invading your privacy – or attempting to, anyway. Eric didn't tell me there would be any humans in the bar so I was surprised and a bit unnerved when I registered you there. I'm not trying to justify what I did, I'm just offering you an explanation so you don't think I'm some kind of creep._

_I would really like it if we could get to know each other better. I am very curious about how you were able to block me, and I'm sure you have questions about who and what I am. Please give me a call sometime. I look forward to hearing from you._

_Your friend,  
Sookie Stackhouse"_

I couldn't help but smile at her letter. She actually seemed like a really sweet girl, and I had to admit that I was curious about her strange ability and her relationship with Eric. She had included her phone number at the bottom and I decided then and there that I would give her a call tomorrow. Eric cleared his throat impatiently and I realized I had all but forgotten I was standing in his office while I read the letter.

"Well?" Eric asked in a strained voice. I could feel through our tie that he was trying to reign in his emotions, but his actions betrayed him. "Yes, what did the illustrious Ms. Stackhouse have to say?" Pam smirked at me.

"She wants to be my friend. She's sorry for trying to get into my head. She wants me to call her."

"What do you mean 'get into your head?'" Eric asked nervously. He didn't sound nervous, really, but I could feel his apprehension. I had a feeling this was the juicy little tidbit he hadn't wanted me to find out about.

"Cut the shit, Eric. She's a telepath, obviously. I could feel her in my mind last night. You've known what she is this whole time and you didn't bother to tell me, for whatever stupid reason. That's why you're doing business with her. That's why you're so enthralled with her, isn't it?"

"I am not _enthralled_ with her," he spat. Pam laughed wickedly but was silenced with an icy glare from her maker. He leveled his gaze back to me and continued, "But I am quickly losing my patience with you. You are not to have any contact with her. Do you understand?"

I put my hands on my hips angrily. "Umm, no, I don't understand. She seems nice and wants to be my friend. Why do you keep pushing away everyone who tries to be cool with me?"

He stood quickly then and slammed his fist down onto his desk. "Pamela, leave." I gulped and shot Pam a quick glance. She almost looked sympathetic as she scurried out the door and shut it behind her. Eric strode around his desk and gripped my biceps roughly.

"You will listen to me. You will do as I say. I told you not to contact her, and you won't. This is final. Have I made myself clear?"

I winced as his fingertips dug into my arms. I was suddenly frozen with fear as I remembered the dream I had woken up to earlier. When I looked up to Eric to tell him he was hurting me, it wasn't him standing before me anymore. It was Andre. His cold, dull eyes bored through my soul and I could actually smell the musk of the cologne he always wore. I knew I couldn't pull away from him; he was too strong. Any attempts I made to get away from him never went unpunished. I felt cool tears slide down my cheeks as I pressed my eyes shut and tried to will him away. I stood there unmoving, concentrating on my breathing, refusing to look at the monster before me as the tears continued to make salty tracks to my mouth. As I waited for Andre to push me down to my knees, I thought I could hear someone calling my name, but they sounded a million miles away. I concentrated on the familiar voice and finally mustered the courage to slowly open my eyes. I gasped when I didn't find Andre there.

Eric was peering down at me with concern in his eyes. I swore I could still feel his fingertips pressing into my arms, but when I looked down, I saw that his hands were poised gently on my hips. I noticed the small finger shaped bruises on my biceps and started to cry all over again.

"Francesca, don't cry. Please forgive me," Eric murmured into my hair as he pulled me close and rested his face against the top of my head. I didn't know how to feel at the moment. I knew he was sorry, I could hear it in his voice. Part of me wanted to tell him it was okay, but another part of me was furious that he had grabbed me so violently and forced me to think about Andre again. I swiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand and stepped back from him. To his credit, he let me go.

"You hurt me," I said. My voice was shakier than I wanted it to be.

"I know. It was not my intention," he replied. He looked down at the floor, seemingly unable to meet my gaze.

"Touch me like that again and I will make you regret it, even if it is the last thing I ever do," I said as I rubbed my arms gently. I winced as my palms passed over the small but rapidly darkening bruises.

He growled at me. "You dare threaten me?" but in an instant he again looked remorseful when he saw the hurt in my eyes. "Please, let me heal you," he offered softly, taking a step toward me. I reflexively moved further away from him, nearly stumbling over a chair in the process.

"No. You've done quite enough for me tonight. Just go get the people I'm supposed to work on so I can go home."

"You can do it another night. Let me take you home."

"Eric, please. I know you feel bad. I can hear it in your voice, and I can sense it through our tie," I said. He looked surprised and pleased at that. I continued, "But I'm not ready to forgive you right now. I would really appreciate it if you would just let me do what I came here to do so I can get out of here. Okay?"

He stared at me for a moment and looked very defeated. I struggled with the urge to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything was fine, but I wasn't completely sure everything really was fine. After another moment, he nodded and went out into the bar. I took in a few deep, cleansing breaths and got everything ready for my first "victim." Eric was back in a couple of minutes with a skanky, shapeless box blonde in tow. She had the physique of a twelve year old boy and the personality of one too. She was too busy making fuck-me-eyes at Eric to even bother saying hello to me.

"Ginger, this is Alice. Sit down and listen to her very carefully." He said curtly to her before going to stand in the doorway to give me space. I was silently grateful that he was doing his best to make things as non-awkward as possible.

"Yes, Master," Ginger tried to purr. I guess it's hard to sound sexy when you smoke two packs a day. I rolled my eyes. Whenever I called Eric "Master," I was just joking around, but I could tell this chick was one-hundred percent serious. Gag me.

I repeated the same process I had done the night before: the small herb bag, the oil, the candle. Even the incantation was similar. Ginger looked at me like I was from Mars as I chanted and lit the pouch on fire. I saw a brief flicker in her eyes and knew the spell was a success. I nodded to Eric who was looking at me in the strangest way. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and came over to collect Ginger. He steered her back out of the office and brought in the next human. We repeated this process several more times until Eric finally came back empty handed. The whole ordeal had only taken a couple of hours.

"That's the last of them," he said flatly. I could tell there was more he wanted to say to me, but it seemed like he couldn't figure out how. I should have told him to save his breath because I really didn't want to hear it at that point.

"Okay. Can I go home now?" I asked as I put my reagents back in my bag.

"No. I still have work to do. You may wait here, or out in the bar if you would be more comfortable."

"Can't I just call Charles to pick me up?"

He actually looked wounded for a moment before he replaced the expression with his normal cool apathy. "I will take you back myself when I am done," he said curtly.

"Fine. I'll wait in the bar," I said, without giving him a chance to reply. I walked past him out into the club and plopped down angrily on one of the stools. The gaunt Native American vampire sauntered over and cocked his head at me disinterestedly. I guessed that was his way of asking what I wanted to drink.

"What's your name?" I asked. I found it funny that we had met several times now but had still barely spoken to each other.

"Longshadow." A man of few words, apparently.

"I'm Alice Reeves," I said. I figured he was in on my true identity, but didn't want to give my name away now that the bar was packed with humans and vamps alike. I didn't want someone to overhear.

"I know. Do you want a Jack and Coke, Alice Reeves?" he deadpanned. The fact that he remembered what I drank made me smile. I nodded and he went about his business. I took a big gulp of the drink when he sat it before me and assumed Eric had told him to give me whatever I wanted when he made no move to ask for payment. Internally, I was smug about it – I figured a couple free drinks was the least that asshole could do for me after he manhandled me earlier.

I sat and sipped my drink slowly. Usually I wasn't a nurser, but I had a lot on my mind: Andre, the Queen, Bridget, Sookie Stackhouse, and… Eric. I sighed. Of course I had been doing a lot of thinking about Eric ever since that first night he had dry humped me while we exchanged blood. The only thing was, now I couldn't get him out of my head even if I tried since the damn blood tie pretty much made him a part of me. Our "relationship" had so many annoying and confusing facets; half the time I couldn't figure out if he was in love with me or was just thinking of creative ways to put me six feet under. Before they could get any more depressing, my thoughts were interrupted by a cold hand on top of my forearm. I had been so engrossed in my mental dialogue I hadn't even noticed anyone approach me.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a man's voice asked. I looked over and snorted at what I saw. If I wasn't so sure he was a vamp, I'd have guessed it was a human dressed up as Bela Lugosi for Halloween. His black hair was slicked back severely from his face and he was wearing a black suit with a cravat and a blood red vest. He even had a fucking cane. What the hell does a vampire need a cane for? He wasn't bad looking by any means, but the horror movie schtick was just too much for me. Besides, regardless of appearances, I was definitely not in the mood to be picked up – by anyone.

"Already got one. See?" I gestured to my drink, which was admittedly almost empty, but still had enough liquid in it to back up my argument. Unfortunately, I could tell this guy wasn't one to give up easily. Most vamps weren't.

"I see. Then perhaps you'd just enjoy some company." This time he was making a statement, not asking a question. Before I could answer, he sat down on the stool next to me and gestured to Longshadow for a drink. "What's your name?" he asked boldly. I rolled my eyes and didn't even have to try to look disinterested.

"Megan Fox," I replied snidely. He laughed, but it wasn't a nice laugh. It was cold and bitter sounding, and it did not cause his face to light up the way Eric's did when he was amused. Ugh, why did all roads seem to lead to that big blonde jackass?

"Very cute," he said. "Megan Fox, hmm? Indeed. Well then, Miss Fox, are you alone here tonight?"

"No. My boyfriend is here, and he will be livid if he so much as sees you talking to me. Don't even ask what will happen if he finds out you're trying to pick me up."

He reached toward me then and traced a frigid finger over the bruises on my arm. "Is this 'boyfriend' of yours the one who did this to you? What sort of imbecile damages his own property?"

"Property? You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me! You do realize it's not the 1500s, don't you?" He glared at me and prodded one of the bruises roughly. I felt it all the way down to the bone and couldn't help but inhale sharply as the pain radiated through my bicep. He gripped my arm and forced me to look at his leering face.

"What a filthy mouth you have. I'll bet you're a lot of fun when you're not busy being a little cunt. Where is this 'boyfriend' of yours, hmm? He's doing a piss poor job of protecting what's hi-" before he could finish insulting me again, he was flying through the air. He landed in a dusty heap atop one of the tables and came up in a snarling rage, ready to fight. That is, until he saw who had just kicked the shit out of him.

"Sheriff?" he asked timidly. All his swagger was suddenly gone, replaced by fear. The trepidation was rolling off of him in waves. I peered over my shoulder to see Eric standing just behind me, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"You dare to insult what is mine?" Eric bellowed. The entire club was silent now, and humans and vampires alike had their eyes glued to the scene.

"Sheriff, I-" he began. Eric interrupted him. "Spare me your idiotic lies. You think me a fool? You question my ability to attend my belongings?"

"No, Sheriff, I-" Eric put his hand up and the vamp was instantly silent. "Leave this place now. Do not come back." They stared at each other without saying a word for a few moments, and then the vamp got up and stormed out without so much as a backward glance. I got the feeling Eric had silently sent him some kind of secret vamp message, so as to not reveal too much about vampire politics in front of a bar full of humans. Eric scanned the crowd and nodded his head almost imperceptibly. Just like that, the lively atmosphere was back in full swing and nobody was paying us any special attention.

Eric gripped my shoulder gently then and I let him lead me over to the stage. He sat on his throne and pulled me onto his lap. I was grateful that he had just rescued me from that lame creep, but I hadn't forgotten our earlier argument. I tried to move off of him and onto the small chair next to the throne, but he clasped his arms around my waist and held me down.

"Eric, let me go. I'm still mad at you."

He gave me a small smile and spoke softly into my ear. His cool breath tickled my skin and made my lady bits twitch. "I know, but I must assert my authority. You are mine, and I will not have anyone trying to usurp you."

I rolled my eyes at this statement, though I was more than familiar with how vampires viewed relationships with humans. Honestly, if you were involved with supes at all, 'belonging' to a vampire was basically the best thing you could do to ensure your own safety, but I still wasn't thrilled to be spoken about like I was a pedigree Golden Retriever. On top of that, I hated the idea of 'belonging' to a vampire that didn't 'belong' to me right back. The last vamp I had been involved with was Cliff, and the whole situation had been wonderful since I knew he was monogamous and I could feel how much he cared about me. It seriously rustled my jimmies to think of Eric out fucking fangbangers while I was stuck by myself at the house watching reruns of The Golden Girls. His odd fascination with Sookie bothered me too. As much as I hated to admit it, I was jealous of the way he looked at her. It made me feel ugly, and even the pretty little words scrawled at the top of his stupid damn notes couldn't convince me I wasn't. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to run to the bathroom and hide. I didn't want anyone looking at me. Eric, however, still wouldn't let me go. I finally narrowed my eyes at him and let some of my anger out.

"I don't want to be yours," I said flatly. A strange look of sadness and confusion flickered across his handsome face, but was gone immediately. Now he just looked angry.

"Not that you have a choice in the matter, but may I ask why?" he asked through gritted teeth. I longed to reach up and smooth his furrowed brow and I clasped my hands tightly in my lap to keep from doing so.

"Because I know what it means to belong to a vampire – I've done it before. No one else can drink from me or be intimate with me without your permission. When I was with Cliff it wasn't an issue since he made me feel special and I knew he cared about me. You though, you're just out with fangers every night, and I saw the way you looked at Sookie. The only reason you haven't fucked her yet is because her boring ass boyfriend's in the way, and I can see the gears turning in your head about how to break the two of them up. I don't want to be your silver medal, Eric. I think I deserve more than that." I spoke very quietly so only he could hear me above the loud thumping music. As pissed off as I was, I didn't want to undermine him in front of his subordinates.

During my little speech, I had been waiting for Eric to interrupt me or lash out in some way. I was surprised he hadn't, considering how frank I had been with him. I couldn't read his expression, but I could feel through the blood tie that he was very conflicted. A small part of me shrank as I realized why he felt that way: he knew I was right. He had just confirmed my suspicions that he wanted Sookie without even having to open his mouth. I didn't want to give him a chance to lie to me or come up with some lame ass excuse, so I spoke again.

"Will you take me home now?" I asked tiredly. Suddenly, I felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I could hear the big claw foot tub calling my name and desperately wanted some space from Eric. He continued to stare at me for a while before he slowly nodded and let me stand up. This time, I led the way down the back hallway and out to the Corvette. I let him open my door for me but I refused to take his extended hand as I scrunched my way into the car. The ride back to the house was silent, and I was disgusted with myself when I realized I was fighting back tears. When we were parked, Eric wordlessly came around to help me out of the car, and I again refused his help. He followed me to the front door and stood silently as I fished for my keys and unlocked the door. I purposely didn't enter the house and instead stayed in the doorway as I turned to face him.

"I suppose I'll talk to you Tuesday, since the bar is closed tomorrow and Monday?" I asked.

"I had planned on coming by tomorrow night," he admitted quietly. I was so confused and hurt. How could he stand here and ask to spend time with me when he hadn't been able to deny how he felt about Sookie?

"Please don't," I said. I knew I was pushing it, but he let me. Part of me was grateful. He seemed to realize I needed space, and he turned to go, but stopped and spoke before he left.

"Those things I said to you last night, Francesca, are things I have never said to anyone else. I meant every one of them."

"I don't believe you. You'd be saying them to Sookie if you thought you could convince her to sleep with you," I said. He tried to interrupt me but I held up my hand to stop him. I continued, "I don't want to talk about this right now. Please, just go." I could feel my eyes burning with unshed tears and I was damned if I was gonna let the bastard see me cry. He stood there looking dazed for a moment and then nodded stiffly and turned to walk back down the stairs. I lingered on the porch until the red Corvette was out of sight down the lane. I went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine, but instead ended up drinking the expensive Moscato right out of the bottle. I wiped the tears that fell with the back of my hand and settled down on the couch to watch a movie. I flipped through the channels until I found The Fast and The Furious – not something I would normally like, but the fast cars and brainless violence were enough to distract me from thinking about you know who. I hadn't even realized I dozed off until a knock at the front door startled me awake. In my confusion I fell off the couch and hit my head on the corner of the coffee table. God damnit. There was another knock. I saw that it was two in the morning as I stumbled over to the front door and ripped it open angrily.

"What's wrong? Not happy to see me?" Michael said with a grin. His chestnut hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck, and he was wearing a purple silk shirt and black slacks. He looked amazing, but it didn't elevate my mood as much as I wished it did.

"I've just had a long night," I said as I stepped back from the door and gestured for him to come in. As soon as I had shut the door, he had me in his arms, pressed against the nearest wall. I hesitated for only a moment before I returned his kisses feverishly, and I was so desperate to forget about Eric that I was even able to ignore the small pang of guilt I felt when my eyes met with amber ones instead of blue ones. Michael drew back and rested his forehead against mine. I saw he had a scowl on his face.

"You smell like him," he hissed. I reached behind his head to loosen his hair and tugged on it.

"We can fix that," I said quietly. He kissed me hard and I pointed to the hallway, hoping he would catch on that I was trying to lead him to the master bathroom. He did.

He set me down on the vanity and nipped at my lower lip before he put the stopper in the tub and turned the water on. As the tub filled, he crouched down to unlace my boots and threw them out into the bedroom. He kissed a trail from my thigh down to my ankle as he peeled my fishnets down and I gasped with shock and pleasure when I felt his cool fingers pushing my panties aside. He rubbed up and down my slit a few times and groaned at the moisture he found there. He stood up and kissed me roughly, looking into my eyes with an expression that said he couldn't wait anymore. I couldn't either.

With that, he used vampire speed to divest me of the rest of my clothes and took a millisecond to remove his as well. Before I could blink, I was in the tub, straddling his lap with one of his hands on my ass and the other positioning his stiff cock at my entrance. A low, hungry moan escaped me as I slowly lowered myself down his length. I rocked my hips against him and set a slow, leisurely pace. He gripped my hips and helped lift me up and down when my legs began to feel weak. I watched him with lust-hooded eyes as he leaned forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth, nipping it lightly.

"You look so sexy riding me like that. Fuck," Michael rasped out as I began to move a bit faster. I held onto his shoulders and concentrated on the warm sensation I felt in the pit of my stomach. My moans became louder and less coherent when he reached down and circled my clit with his thumb. Eventually I couldn't concentrate on anything but panting "yes yes yes" over and over. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub as I rode him as hard and fast as I could. I felt him begin to swell within me and I joined him in ecstasy when he bit my breast. We came together; his moan was deep and throaty and sounded extremely sexy, but I could only muster a sort of strangled grunt. I felt so good I didn't even care.

I lifted off him gently and kissed his chest before I turned around and sat between his bent knees. I leaned back against his chest and sighed contentedly, my eyes closed. He began to rub my shoulders and I felt like a gooey puddle of strawberry preserves. After a moment or two, I felt him tense a bit behind me as his hands moved down to my biceps. I was so relaxed I didn't think anything of it, and just as quickly as he had stopped, he began to massage me again, this time more gently as he touched my arms.

"Frankie, who did this to you?" he whispered into my ear. He rested his chin on my shoulder and kissed my neck as I contemplated what he was talking about. Then I realized he had finally noticed the bruises Eric had given me. I so wasn't looking forward to this conversation.

"It's nothing," I lied. I tried to shift his hands back up to my shoulders but he wouldn't budge. I looked down and saw him tracing the bruises gently with the pads of his fingers.

"Frankie, you are injured. It's not nothing to me. It shouldn't be nothing to you, either. Did Northman do this? Why are you protecting him?" His voice was gentle and soothing. I was touched that he seemed to genuinely be concerned for me, but I wasn't a fan of what he was implying, like I was Eric's lapdog that would do anything for him.

"It was an accident. He didn't mean to. I'm not protecting him, he knows I'm mad at him, but I believe that he's sorry for what he did. Besides, I told him if he ever hurts me again, he'll regret it."

Michael chuckled behind me and I smiled at the sound. "You threatened the Sheriff of Area Five? Oh,you really are a delight. But really, though…" he hesitated. I was silent as he contemplated what to say next. He kissed the back of my neck before he continued, "I do not like him laying his hands on you."

"Well, you had better get used to it, since he and I are one blood exchange away from a full-fledged bond." I hated to bring it up, but I knew Michael had already figured out Eric and I were tied, and that we would eventually be bonded. Michael sighed and twisted me around in the tub to face him. He toyed with a strand of my hair and cupped the side of my face affectionately. I met his intense gaze and rubbed his chest absent-mindedly until he spoke.

"Come with me," he said quietly. I gave him a puzzled look.

"Go with you where? To your house?" I asked. He pulled me to him and gave me a searing kiss that took my breath away.

"Away from here, Frankie. Away from this house, away from Eric, away from Sophie Anne. The thought of you bonded to that barbarian makes me ill. I do not trust him, and neither should you. He obviously has no self-control; look at how he has hurt you. Who is to say what he will do next? I couldn't face the rest of my eternity knowing I let something truly awful happen to you at his hands." He nuzzled the crook of my neck and I kissed his temple. Our gazes met again and I could see the apprehension in his beautiful honey eyes.

"Michael, I'm not your responsibility. I'm a grown woman and I can make my own decisions. I want to stay. Yeah, he's insufferable sometimes, but most of the time he's harmless. What he did to me tonight wasn't even a fraction of the shit I had to go through at the Queen's palace. He pays me well, I get to live here for free, I get to work a job that I'm good at and that I enjoy. The situation isn't perfect, but it's the best my life has been in years."

"Frankie, please. If you give me time, I will find a way to get you out of here, I swear it. I will take care of you and I swear on a stack of silver-bound bibles I would never, ever hurt you. You must believe me on that." I sighed and kissed his chin.

"I believe you, honey, but I don't wanna talk about this right now. I've had a long night and this whole conversation is a little too heavy for me. You know what I'd rather do instead?" He looked at me questioningly. I smirked and continued, "I'd rather you take me into the bedroom and fuck me til I can't walk tomorrow."

At first I thought my proposition wasn't going to bring him out of this depressing funk we had fallen into, but then he stood up abruptly and wrapped my legs around his waist. I held onto his neck as he bent to let the water out of the tub and sucked on his fangs while he padded slowly into the bedroom. He laid me down softly on the bed and ran a cool hand down the length of my body. He looked at me like I held the secrets to every unanswerable question he had ever had, and I shivered under his gaze and reached for him. I sighed as he entered me and screamed his name as I came, again and again.

The warm indigo light of dawn was beginning to filter over the tops of the trees when Michael finally rolled off of me and pulled me to his side. I snuggled into him and entwined my legs with his, and he gave me one last gentle kiss before he entered his day slumber. I heard the hum of the metal shutters closing over the windows and it was only a couple of seconds before the room was pitch black. I again found myself thinking of Eric, and how he must have finally put timers on the shutters in anticipation that he'd be staying here more often. I felt a small pang of guilt that Eric was on my mind even as I lay in another vampire's arms, but even then I couldn't stop a tiny piece of my brain from wishing it was his strong, alabaster chest I was resting on, his golden hair tickling my nose as I buried my face in his neck. Eric had told me the night before that I was the first thing he thought of when he rose. As my eyelids got heavier and heavier, I couldn't help but guess Eric would be the last thing I thought of before I fell asleep. I was right.


End file.
